Can't you see the fine limits of your hunger?
Divine words of power can give birth to the mistake.
Blown, by envy and frost.
Alone, your kingdom is doomed.
Drop it all, the ladders are way too brittle,
The falling damage will be tough,
(and) it's closer and closer.
I want more,
Since I'm chopped with paradoxes.
"We are the heirs of Half God,
The one, who made the great fault."
Few things that reveal the worst part of myself,
Drown into hatred, my own madness.
Blown, by envy and frost.
Alone, your despair is king.
"Bold is your vengeance,
The river will decay,
Red as Lava,
The ground will quake."
This world could burn,
I'd never make a step
Wise is the man,
Who stops hitting the anvil
"Bold is your vengeance
The river will decay…"
Encounter of conjectural plots,
Trying to beat me down with hope and kindness
This world could burn.
All we have is wounds to care about.
I now ride, into the deep, in the search of the right way
I've waited, under the yoke of decorum
I'd seal my eyes again,
I'd close my soul and witness the end of an age
