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OVER THE BURIAL GROUND,

HIDDEN BY TIME,

THE HARSHNESS OF THE WINDS IS DISSIPATED BY THE RUINS.

THE FLOOR, WORE BY THOUSANDS OF FUNERAL PROCESSIONS,

GOES UP TO THE CENTER, TO THE VORTEX A WELL,

IN WHICH THE WATER MADE BY THE DEAD,

POISONS THE WORLD OF THE LIVING...

POISONS THE WORLD OF THE LIVING...

THE TURBID WATER BECOMES MY MIRROR AND THE MIRROR SEES IT ALL.

I AM ITS MASTER,

THE STRONG AND IMPREGNABLE KEEP

THE LOST FORGOTTEN WISDOM...

THE LOST FORGOTTEN WISDOM !

THE TOMBSTONES

OVERSHADOW THE DARK SKY.

FORESHADOWING

A NEW AGE OF OBLIVION...

BUT BENEATH THE SKY

EVIL IS SET LOOSE...