darkness and hope

so this is
the exemplar deathstyle
you told me about;
you want my seed in,
is this the treason
i bare the fame from?
my fatal freedom;
the omniswansong.

i carry the news of darkness and hope.

so this is
the underworld
you have in your heart;
you hide in your room.
i´m so sorry to say,
it only makes me laugh.

i carry the news of darkness and hope.

so here i have-your act of love
within the poison-of your every word.
each night you stay in - each night i will have to run
knowing from darkness and hope
there is no return.

i carry the news of darkness and hope.

dedicated to the small great people of saboia, alentejo, portugal.
hang, rope, silver bullet, magic pill, mandrake´s root. the southern deathstyle.

| moonspell, darkness and hope |

so they really took the inspiration for this song in my homeland... and the better part was, it was fernando ribeiro himself who told me this.

how to make it smoothly

my guess is, we need to take from those very sweet moments all the strenght we can to face the bitter ones when they come.

this one says it all about us

i know the pieces fit
'cause I watched them fall away.
mildewed and smouldering,
fundamental differing.
pure intention juxtaposed
will set two lovers' souls in motion;
disintegrating as it goes
testing our communication.

the light that feuled our fire then
has a burned a hole between us so
we cannot see to reach an end,
crippling our communication.

i know the pieces fit
'cause I watched them tumble down.
no fault, none to blame;
it doesn't mean i don't desire to
point the finger, blame the other,
watch the temple topple over,
to bring the pieces back together;
rediscover communication.

the poetry
that comes from the squaring off between.
and the circling is worth it,
finding beauty in the dissonance.

there was a time that the pieces fit,
but I watched them fall away.
mildewed and smouldering,
strangled by our coveting.
i've done the math enough to know
the dangers of our second guessing:
doomed to crumble unless we grow,
and strengthen our communication.

cold silence has
a tendency to
atrophy any
sense of compassion
between supposed brothers,
between supposed lovers.

i know the pieces fit
i know the pieces fit
i know the pieces fit
i know the pieces fit
i know the pieces fit
i know the pieces fit
i know the pieces fit
i know the pieces fit

| tool, schism; dedicated to her (read it carefully) |

old words are still words

(...) who you are, i know not, even though i might be aware of what defines you, your inner self. i am what i am, a fantastic impossibility of imagination, a fallen angel lost in the ravenous whirlwind of reality, the flesh and bone personification of the moon god nitramneadh, my own creation, whose name i borrowed from someone like me that i have never met. i am truly nitramneadh, the one who died for the love of nifrithe and for the world they conceived with all that love. she is gone, though; i have never seen her. one day, perhaps, i will. no rush. my world knows no time.

|free translation from my old blog|

stitches

still, a couple of words would be really nice to warm up my cold heart and to ease my already troubled mind. "did it hurt, to remove the stitches?"

it's cold outside, you know?

fear and panic in the air,
i want to be free
from desolation and despair.
and i feel like everything i saw
is being swept away
when I refuse to let you go...

i can't get it right,
get it right,
since i met you...

loneliness, be over...
when will this loneliness be over..?

life will flash before my eyes;
so scattered and lost,
i want to touch the other side.
and no one thinks they are to blame;
why can't we see
that when we bleed we bleed the same?

i can't get it right,
get it right
since i met you...

loneliness be over...
when will this loneliness be over..?

loneliness be over...
when will this loneliness be over..?

| muse, map of the problematique |

what doesn't kill us only makes us stronger

maybe all this will work out in the end.

guilt

go on. keep resting all the guilt upon my shoulders, if it makes you feel better. go on. set yourself free. care not if the burden you forced me to carry tears me apart. i'll eventually pick myself from the ground when it's all said and done.

cold water

we may have lived by the flame, but we won't die by the flame. we'll die by cold, deadly water.