Mirrorthrone все тексты (слова) песен, переводы, видео, клипы

Scattering ashes and dust from its burnt hands,
The headless flock crawls, growls and moans.
For beheaded at birth and disheartened by the pathless infinities of stars,
The weak in spirit collapsed at the death of their god.
A scream to express the hate of a race...
Purify the children and kill the usurped genitors
Occulted from the transcendental state.
Praise the incestuous habits of the pure bloods of power

Beyond The Mirrorthrone

Lying under a melting moon
I bemoan the truth I shall never know
For I'm pulled by the winds of Eternity
In a chasm where no sparkle of light dances

Infinite thoughts dyed with madness

Once a man built a large and grotesque wall
Of cracked stones, dead hopes and bruised limbs.
He wanted it to protect himself against a deep growl
Of a storm carrying remorse and memories of sins.
Below the faded sun, he spent his entire lifetime
In hiding from any truth, in masking his crime
In an attempt to castrate his already sexless flesh,
Blindly fleeing from any recollection of thresh.

Enivré par les vapeurs du vide,
Noyé dans ses noirs et visqueux fluides,
L'esprit s'encouble, titube, puis bascule,
Vers cet inconnu qui à chaque pas recule.
Vacillant émotionnellement
Mais hélas, toujours présent.
La conscience vaincue n'aspire qu'à une fin :

Le lourd fracas du rien contre le rien
Ne provoque aucun son, aucune vibration,
Pas le moindre écho qui résonnerait au loin,
Mais qu'une pure indétermination.
Ce rien n'engendrerait ni mal, ni bien,
Ne posséderait aucune volonté d'orienter le destin.
Comment expliquer dès lors cette lassitude humaine extrême,
Cette capitulation devant quelque chose qui ne saurait être d'elle-même ?

Moi Mort...

La parole n'est plus maîtresse que du rien
Anéanti je renie mon destin
Plus de sens au très saint verbe
Qui de sa sonorité m'exacerbe

Les vagissements du Néant résonnent

Now arrived at the dusk of my aeonic existence
But yet, too short
My hands are bound in my back with a thorny rope
And yet, so tight

Raising my prophetic gaze one last time
The only things I meet are blight
And contempt, vomited by all those mouths

While the reflection of past scars
Still faintly shines, still weekly whines,
A new flame dawns, calm and pale
Surrounded by a white glow, but so frail.

It enlightened my deafened scream,
Where hatred was reigning supreme,
Thus switching ways, inverting nights and days

What is this strange blaze in the Western sky
Confusingly recalling an endless cry,
Echoing weakly throughout the horizon,
Flying blindly to an hazardous destination?

Night and day it stands fiercely there
In such a pernicious and piercing glare,
Holding it's terrible secret for itself

Seeking for a shining star in a dead sky
That would enlighten me a way to follow
Within the obscurity that surrounds me I trusted a lie
Pronounced by the malignant voice of sorrow

The condition of being a toy
Wounded, disrespected and betrayed

The Notion of Perfect

The quest is on !
The Truth is awaiting somewhere
Laughing at my poor self
Whose frozen heart tries to breathe
Through a blinding curtain of snow
Falling from a dead and boring sky

Enivré par les vapeurs du vide,
Noyé dans ses noirs et visqueux fluides,
L'esprit s'encouble, titube, puis bascule,
Vers cet inconnu qui à chaque pas recule.
Vacillant émotionnellement
Mais hélas, toujours présent.
La conscience vaincue n'aspire qu'à une fin:
La précipitation de son destin.