Wistful tears fly toward to paleness
of fallen souls in the spectral
land,my soul resembles the
oblivion of forsaken sadness...
Still I crawl and still I burn
invisible confusion
exalts the darkness
...early dying

So cold my frozen body
and hatred regains my eyes
while the soul dies again
and it returns to regency

I drift between dreadful storms of
hate dreaming in the mist of
mysticism...

And my emotional dreams
wake me into the eternal
turbidity with its endless
tragical eminence...

Maybe in the forest full
of inclined desires
I bosom goddess of night
but I'll born into darkness again
in the world you will forget

My soul flies but its enchanted dreams
live forever...