Behind the spectral door, the doubts are concealed,
The weariness, the agony, and the dread.
(...the doubts are concealed...)
The consciousness that breathes in oblivion’s field,
And the will that sighs in the fist’s iron bed.
A black seed was planted deep in the crown!
A black flame has nourished its growth and its pride!
A terrible race... a tribe hunted down...
Wants to return with its wings amplified!
So what shall emerge as the essence is shifting?
A crystal of stone! A basaltic tomb!
Will shroud the embodiment of horror, uplifting...
And turn it to Light, resurrecting from gloom!
Lies and deceits... like a venomous blight.
The spirit’s awareness in madness is reeled.
High, ghostly melodic wailing
The soul by that seed is consumed in the night.
Hope is rejected... only the will shall remain.
One final effort...
To shatter the chain. To leap to the clouds...
Black Seed
© Copyright: Алёна Гаштольд, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126022409893
Свидетельство о публикации №126022409893
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