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• Artiste: Thy Primordial
• Titre: Mere Are They...
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The tomb of man is the splendour of death Trod their ways, walk the accursed path Swirl towards the dying For death the ultimate reality Hides the claws which well can be used With a mask of will A recollecting mask Of how learning to spread the wings To feel the soul To unmake old realms To plague the world of man Raised like dust but fleshed as no dust is Awaiting redemption of dark ways Yet what keeps me here is what glows beyond That of malice which quiver when touched The tomb of man is the splendour of death I haul the black future towards us Though leaving no traces in the corner of dawn The aged earth aghast It's ceaseless roaring ever fills the timeless skies Yet leaving no traces in the corner of dawn