Scars Processor
ASMODÉE
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You were suddenly dumb of joy into my arms
I have satisfied my thirst
But the cup must hold me a deadly draught
Nightmares suck my throat
Embraced by frail fingers
Deadlier draught for a brocken neck
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Yes, your ills shall not press in vain
I waited you with boundless impatience
A silent suffering... And intense
Let me have my beatification
Send me hopes than can spin in my head
Active agonies of grief
No more bearn the eyes which my dream could inspire
Yet even that pain is some relief
Dans tes doigts, un courant si rapide
Où coulent des étincelles
J'ai le cœur crayeux
Isolé par des cuirasses de frissons
Mettez en fleur mes cicatrices
Billes de marbre luisantes