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I look at the sky and see the stars
Orion, why you are so far, so inaccessible?
In the sad and miserable conscience of the being man I scorn my limits and I regret the fallen Atlantide. By now only remembers sealed in clean covert and forlorn stones. Solve et Coagula. Never like today this concept appears me as clear and paradoxically deceptive. Coagulate et Solve is theway imposed, junction and dissolation are the destiny that waits me. The power of the chaos dominates my future. I am alone, wanderer in the immense garden of the philosophers, King of the ancient dreamers. Art surrounds me. I feel it like the oath that governs my empire. Blasphemy is the verb for the hopes that one time I had and that now rests to the feet of this monument of fog, snow and ice. The heart of the brother is black like the night and the blood flows cold among the deceased meats of betrayed angels. I am to the search of a never had orgasm and that this sterile life can't offer me ever. What is the hope compare to the destiny? An horrible nightmare that haunts and disturbs my rest. I don't find the end of this fairy garden and, surrounded of artists, Princes of fantasy, I look for repose near the shore of this river of putrescenses. Without breath, without the soul I offer myself to the nightmares, my only friends. Solve et Coagula
Orion, why you are so far, so inaccessible?
In the sad and miserable conscience of the being man I scorn my limits and I regret the fallen Atlantide. By now only remembers sealed in clean covert and forlorn stones. Solve et Coagula. Never like today this concept appears me as clear and paradoxically deceptive. Coagulate et Solve is theway imposed, junction and dissolation are the destiny that waits me. The power of the chaos dominates my future. I am alone, wanderer in the immense garden of the philosophers, King of the ancient dreamers. Art surrounds me. I feel it like the oath that governs my empire. Blasphemy is the verb for the hopes that one time I had and that now rests to the feet of this monument of fog, snow and ice. The heart of the brother is black like the night and the blood flows cold among the deceased meats of betrayed angels. I am to the search of a never had orgasm and that this sterile life can't offer me ever. What is the hope compare to the destiny? An horrible nightmare that haunts and disturbs my rest. I don't find the end of this fairy garden and, surrounded of artists, Princes of fantasy, I look for repose near the shore of this river of putrescenses. Without breath, without the soul I offer myself to the nightmares, my only friends. Solve et Coagula