Gardens

I dream of hope dying, pray for restless nights.

Pray to all your Gods that I do not stray from my slumber.

a) Two Gardens

She don’t wander in...don’t wander in here, she...
She don’t wander in here...don’t wander in here...

The direction of the eye, so misleading
The defection of the soul, nauseously quick
I don’t question, our existence
I just question, our modern needs

She don’t wander in...don’t wander in here, she...
She don’t wander in here...

I will walk...with my hands bound
I will walk...with my face blood
I will walk...with my shadow flag
Into your garden, garden of stone...yeah...

After all is done, and we’re still alone
I won’t be taken, yet I’ll go...with my hands bound
I will walk...with my face blood
I will walk...with my shadow flag
Into your garden, garden of stone

I don’t show...I don’t share...
I don’t need, yeah...what you have to give...

Oooh, I will walk...with my hands bound
I will walk...with my face blood
I will walk...with my shadow flag
Into your garden, garden...oh...

I will walk with my hands bound
I will walk into your garden, garden of stone...

I don’t know...I don’t care...
I don’t need you for me to live...

&

I know no shame

The empire of my desire
Gathers you into my fire
I hope you fall. Hope you call,
My filthy name. It makes you crawl
On you knees, with all your pleas.
Lay down there, look up at me.

Are you alive my dear, and breathing?
Are you diseased my dear, and bleeding?
I'll lift you high my dear,
I'll have you dreaming.
'Tis time to say farewell, to your pleading.

Poor devils as thou art. A ruin at my feet.
Go drop your little life, and welcome up my sleep.
So briefly at my side. So simple in defeat.

No more lies utter from you.
From mine eyes I must take you.
No longer wise. Nothing is new.
Tears for my trembling faith.
You shall not die unsung.

Goodbye my dear, you wicked thing.
I have no tears, beautiful thing.
No silver pail to catch them in.
So ends this tale you did not win.


b) Two Gardens

Jardines de escarlata o piedra...

hogar de la flor de loto con hojas de obsidiana,

asesina sin consciencia, perfecta,

aquella misma con la que despojaron de alas a toda mi estirpe divina,

misma frente a la cuál huesos—hoy solamente de agua—ceden.


Del pasado quedan recuerdos apasionados del verdugo.

Queda la sangre más densa que el agua;

sin provocación fluye por las venas con homicida insistencia,

reviviendo a demonios ascendidos a nuevas profundidades del averno,

traicionados por ser dueños de un corazón noble

y tenientes de una lealtad ciega.


Guardianes atormentados del sagrado grial de mortales..

—sólo sombras quedamos—

conservan de sí sólo el valor para cumplir su deber.

Jamás frutos para ellos, jamás independencia para todos.


Y arriesgaron...y han perdido tanto...

tanto más que el alma.



Perdimos tanto más que alas.

Renunciamos a tanto más que orgullo.

"We were once the dear Beloved of God,

Are now reduced to Children of Chaos;

We miss the days when our Will was set,

In Time's chains we rejoiced our Fate.

Garbed in shadows, the brethren whispers:

'We once were less than here,

and more than perfect.'"

Pero a la inocencia

como a la perfección,



...sólo nacemos una vez.


El valor, el amor, y el orgullo renacen de sus propias cenizas.



Banales dioses, los nuestros.