Going to hell is easy.
The melody of the wind accompanies the chilling noise of the trees.
Your warm hand guides mine in the frozen darkness,
where you do not have to rely on the deceptive floor made with heavenly pain.
The squeal of the wax melting in the streetlights, does not let me hear the hope of this world frozyng by evil,
who consumes all warm breath,
and all goodness withers.
The pyramid had given way,
and it had taken us to the depth of emptiness.
World thief, of the nutrients of our smooth souls,
Killer world, of our rugged peace,
World swindler, of our unstable dreams and desires.
Your! Cherub,
guide my legendary step
in this whirlwind of permanently sacred death.
My decision is firm;
There must be a better world.
