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You observe worried

The dominant kind

It's time to rise

It's time to burn the arid earth

And to attend

That similars...

Lift their hands

Lift their arms

Lift their hearts

This blind flight

Trip without destination

It will give black light

To my eyes

Extracting the most painful blades

I will leave a trail

To the one who stopped journeying

To those who will begin

To those brandish the blades

Black triumph will cross

Circling flames

That wishes to have blinded

With the same light

That it embrace them

The triumph

Will fill the air

Of a fetid himself

The new order of chaos

Order of chaos