Behemoth – The past is like funeral

Sometimes when I visit the landscapes of the shadowsSomething that recalls the graveHides in the hellish depths and awaitsWhen I dream, it peeks into empty goblet(and) becomes the wine of ecstasy and licentiousnessI know the one in a flock said0 @Watch out, watch out@But I will not go away till I taste the sweetness of your bodyNo matter it poisons and causes deathThe past is like an eternal funeralYears, thousands of them, I rotted in a monastic cellI resembled a stone, hiding my murderous self in silence and fearI lasted in the infinity of meditations and contamplationsWaiting for the deserved dream, there on the holy landAnd its taste and coldness I rememberBare-foot digging my own pitI was kissing it as if the sweetest lover and beggedBut was the sandto become my salvation

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