Incantations of past horrors again brought to life, whose eyes Are the might of death, to reap and reap again. May it be in Form of fright or a temptress dressed in lace - its true face Is a gruesome abomination. Piercing the quiet, as every night Before, with alluring voices. Landscapes left to rot behind its Turned back. The true face and its purpose shown - open up The burning eyes to aim once more. Behold your face in the Mirror and for the first time see the flaws that lies within You - fears and remorse. Is it a shadow behind you who put All thought aside? Is a voice now calling louder than before? For all the answers to your questions is death. For you Are like the world - turning in a restless pace, awaiting A storm to great to outlive. Each birth bears to fate Each seed hold the will to rot. This does adapt to you as Well - your blood is not running pure. Have in mind, you Walk in denial - you are always being watched