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The Paradox
At The Gates
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Prodigious dreams, entangled and black Coiled in the corners of life Hallucinations, engraved in our bones Futile, monotonous lives The poison circle, eyes within eyes How black our madness to be Spectral salvation, unfurling itself Through labyrinthian nights To carry these dead notes As we stare into the abyss Our ruin, twisted and black Into the starving void Dehumanization of our art and culture Parent of horrors to be Mankind is nothing but self-conscious flesh The triumph of our own deceit The structures thеy now crumble The fevеred liturgy Black with the scars of madness We hide within our crypts Through mad winds of terror Dreams are disturbed In pulse after heaven-wide pulse Older than darkness, colours unknown Within the pit of death Heroic dreams now trampled By figures in rust-coloured robes A region, illuminated Into the nuclear dawn The structures they now crumble The fevered liturgy Black with the scars of madness We hide within our crypts And as all hope turns to black Into the dreamless night As all hope turns to black Of pessimism and paradox No hope – all black No hope – all black And as all hope turns to black Into the dreamless night As all hope turns to black Of pessimism and paradox Of pessimism and paradox Of pessimism and paradox
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