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Father sky your ruthlessness is ancient Unbearable to the legions of grace The broken glass in the corridor of centuries Is the only witness to the funeral of the world This existence runs on whispered machines Feeding grief to a heart that drowned years ago The bride cries lucid hidden from senses Bring forth thy requiem that states the future Unbounded by sexual intellect and reflections The bride cries undercover hidden from senses Fortunate is the season gray - Solitude is sterile. Abstraction paints a portrait - Hidden from senses. Like armies blinded by deceptions once unknown You and I will die another morning This passing moment is damned by the season of communion That confirms my insanity Abstraction paints a portrait - Hidden from senses From Letras Mania