Inner Thirst

In the children of our immortality,

We tend to find some satisfaction;

We tend to fight for what we want;

We tend to seek for what we lost;

We tend to endure for what we need,

And when an opportunity comes

For us to acquire these,

We grab it;

And when we let it fly away,

We crawl for it.

We are too weak not to want satisfaction,

Until the difference between

What we want and

What we need is totally lost.

You gamble with the demon,

For your urge is strong.

And then you make the deal;

Being naïve, you already lose.

For you’ve bet your soul,

“I do this sin now,

But after this, I won’t.”

You can’t stop the temptation,

Like an unstoppable poison

Circulating in the body.

You’re now losing in this psycho battle.

You’ve let the flaming arrows

Enter your whole conscience.

Now you’re marching down to Abyss.

For a limited ecstasy

That equals no contentment,

That equals no satisfaction at all.

Ruptured Rapture

I thought I'd done enough

Until I heard the trumpet's horn

And many that surrounded me

Made me turn into oblivion.

They literally passed through the ceilings,

Up to the air,

To the new Mighty Kingdom,

Towards the Great Lord God Almighty.

Then massive brimstones fell,

Destroying everything dear,

Destroying everything near,

Destruction was what we saw and heard.

We see that fire consumed, consumes,

And will consume Earth.

The Man in the White Horse has come,

Bearing the number 666, name of the Serpent,

Holding a bow and arrows.

Great nations fight each other.

An eye for an eye, a bomb for a bomb,

For the Man in the Red Horse has come.

Destroyed, the Earth is.

There are no more good;

There are no more food;

And we've forgotten the word "Pain",

"Heartaches", "Debauchery", "Ecstasy",

"Selfishness", "Greediness", "Love",

"Faith", "Hope", "Dream"...

Only "Hunger", too much of it,

For the Man in the Black Horse has come.

And then there's the Man in the Pale Horse,

And the Horse's whines bleed our ears,

Killing us softly,

Killing us slowly,

One by one, until thousands by thousands.

The Earth is burning its skin.

Pollution has surpassed its limits.

In Earth's a third part where

Smoking is healthier than

Breathing its atmosphere.

The second third part has its water

Poisoned with blood,

Sulfur and decaying body parts.

Who dares to drink it?

In our Land of Birth,

Covered in lethal humid,

We have nothing to eat;

We have nowhere to hide;

We have no one to hold on.

We have no hope;

We have no dream;

We have no more tears to cry out,

Dying is the most satisfying work,

This Age's Seventh Heaven.