Nephelium - Burial Ground - Sözleri

(Kaleidoscopic images come spiralling out of the past in bursting flashes that assault the senses and leave one bewildered and disoriented. Fragmented images…frozen in time…alternate with howling echoes of disjointed bedlam. By the time the Traveler adjusts, the tumultuous flow has ceased and settled into a stable scene. It portrays a meadow on a warm summer's day. A great old tree casts its imposing shadow amidst the meadow. Its knotted branches are gnarled and twisted, as to reveal age beyond imagining, and bears no distinguishing marks. As a matter of fact, aspects of most other tree forms can be seen marking its massive trunk and scarce foliage. Unlike most other trees, this tree is not a host of swarming life, an ecosystem teeming with various coexisting species. No sap runs through its veins and no parasites course through its bark. It seems as though the very soil the Tree stands on is dead itself. Even the air around the Tree seems colder and more acrid, rustling though its dry leaves and whispering immemorial secrets in long-forgotten tongues. The outer layers of its bark are rimmed with cracks and wrinkles that strangely remind of human faces. A monument of death itself, it does strangely disturb the wholesome harmony of the warm and sunny mid-afternoon.)



In a world polluted by corpses

Memories entombed in sand

Funeral garments in the closets

Nitrous is the land



Sculls are grinning by the pyres

Bleached bones exposed

No phoenix will arise from these ashes

Gates to the crypt are closed



Burial ground

Silence brought the end



Cellular decomposition

Tears the fabric of the mind

Apathetic predisposition

Sores are festering inside



Electro-magnetic impulses

Leak into the soil

Pouring from a broken nerve

Sacrificial bleeding of the soul

Presence lurking in old cellars

Dead cold, hungry eyes

Just beyond the visible spectrum

Shadows hide the light



Rats are crawling in the sewers

Grotesque imagery

Of the collective subconsciousness

Hidden behind lock and key



Dry and barren is the surface

Of this proto-world that we create



Powered by the human essence



The sanctuary of the damned



Dry winds are screaming in the night

Alongside empty streets

Rattling broken window-panes

And carrying tumbleweeds



Emptiness devoid of life

Is coiling on the ground

Nothing will disturb the silence

When funeral bell's the only sound



Fresh and raw is still the soil

From the funerals to come

Nothing will return to life

From this burial ground



Cast away the putrid souls

In this land of hidden sins

Close your eyes and pray for death

The end is closing in



Turn the key and lock the vault

Pretend they don't exist

But this place will haunt your dreams

Like a malignant cyst



Drink up from this cup of poison

Forget your miserable life

Surrounded by illusions

Sedated by lies

Ignore this prison of your making

Until the day you die

Although you see the moldy graves

Each time you close your eyes



Burial ground…

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