Letras: Arafel. Second Strike: Through The Flames Of The Ages. Purification Of Wisdom.

Deep within you are after some answer
it can hurt as none of known weapons
it blows within your true-self
it crashes the very borders of your keep

Diagnostics failed-none cares
all acceptable ways dealt of no core
flexible hands of anxiety are moving now
the only prescription left is suicide

Generations of your antestors
Shores of proto ?seas and primal youth of the green
glens by the blood are within your cells
and standing on the ashes
observing this formed world
gradually becoming aware
that the mind trap turns into soul plot

granuled treasures of oblivion
renovated sharpness of thoughts
whole indulgence of the almighty
counting stages while the fall

And even while on your knees
when the present strikes sharply through
The only things that stable the strength
Are those ancient memories of yours?

So be thankful to the source
it was the Thing which delivered
you, doomed to existence
and finally forced for the purification of wisdom