- The Apocryphal Wisdom Of An Allegorical Apocalypse - The prophet: Many martyrs have fallen since I pa**ed that what The truth: Many skies have bled. The prophet: Many gods did return, many prayers lost their aim many loves have felt. The truth: Many suns were born. The prophet: I wonder if the children will forgive ... When the light dies through infinite darkness and the children start to cry: when a scream turns to a whisper when the ages bleed alive ... Reality becomes illusion illusion is reality; is this an alliance of the ancient or the new birth of a prophecy? Unnatural beings, morbid existence resuscitated horror, ambigious visions see the apocalypse - rise ... We were banned by the fire, in the grip of the ceremony. We saw types in our hearts, we denied every life we could give And infinity grasped out for slaves, day by day - year for year. Why that prophet spoke to the abyss below him: "Have we ever been free"? And behind the shade sleeps an apocryphal wisdom in the hour of twilight in this legendary times ... Unnatural beings, morbid existence resuscitated horror, ambigious visions see the apocalypse - rise ... Now that the breath has gone the fire claims its might; now that, in this dark millenium no master is alive. Now that s castle stands between the ruins of the past; now that the omens wither away, no hope will ever last. The prophet: I wonder if the children will forgive ...