Avinar - 2005 - Whispers Of Insanity
A Torn Fate

I've sit in ruins of a soilless land
with closed eyes and curved neck
ancient book's pages of fate
appear in my mind and be torn
the caravan of dead rose's smell...
that died in the earth before...
comes from the gates of east
dedicates me the night's cold breeze of earth
and goes to nothing from the west
no cry in the silence of this ruins
I am a homeless to find another rose
how much I break the grey stars by feets?
to find another rose
to be a present for my torn fate
however fetid
however faded
but a rose

Transilvanian Hunger

transilvanian hunger soul... cold
your hands are cruel to haunt, to haunt
the mountains are cold so... cold
careful pale forever at night
take me
can't you feel the call
embrace me eternally in your daylight slumber
to be draped by the shadow of your morbid palace
ohh, hate living...
the only heat is warm blood
so pure
so cold
transilvanian hunger
hail to the true intense vampires
a story made for divine fulfillment
to be the one's breathing a wind of sorrow
sorrow and fright the dearest katharsis
beautiful evil self to be the morbid count
a part of a pact that is delightfully immortal
feel the call freeze you with the uppermost desire
transilvanian hunger
my mountain is cold
so pure
evil
cold
transilvanian hunger

True Silent Dying

the falling all of nature and grim burning skies of dark
and then rising of the darkness in my kingdom from the night
misanthropic holy sadness makes the unholy tears of dreams
makes the mountains as the stone and the forests as a tree
true ruinous stroms are come in the landscapes of the dark
painful dying of the owls I hear it out from the dark
the sky is burning gray and the stars are darken away
disintegrate moon on sky has the last shining but gray
the tired tearing voices, many cages lost the keys
prisoners in the prisons, and the prisons are their creeds
oh, the morbid castels and cathedrals are the elder ruins like selves
I feel here is so cold, colder than the colds of flames
wrathful storms desolates trees from the forests to the deeps
the deeper and the deeper than the deeps of abyssic griefs
the graveyard's stones of tombs are flying on the air
empty graves, even the coffins, is this pure? is this the end?
all the funerals are here, here is no tears from a heart
here is nature, here is forest, here is flames, and here is dark
true reasons of the living on this earth are where to find?
no one needs the world after death and the living in this side
who is god? who is satan? what is reason of the life?
where is hell? where is heaven? where is where the soul can fly?
who is Ihs? who is phrophet? who can change the brain of mine?
what is religion? what is life? what is promise? what is die?
in this coldest darkest corner of the true dark imperials
I'm sitting on my black robe and I'm tearing with the pride
ah, I see a funeral, the funeral of the brains
but no one feels this dying, true silent dying of my brain