In the Movement of the Seventh Moon
I find myself in this terrible World
Alone Wandering these deserted swamps
I feel its Presence, I can't wake out...


And every Night, It's always the same thing
It takes my Spirit to these Regions
I'm Protected by its cold and thin arms
The Cold and Thin Arms
Then Taken away by the Torn Black Shroud


My Body stands still, I can't move
Still I can walk in my dream
I Smell its Odour, It's not far from me
It Watches me and wait for something


And every Night, It's always the same thing
It takes my Spirit to these Regions
I'm Protected by its cold and thin arms
Cold and thin arms
Then taken away by the torn Black Shroud


The only sounds I can hear
Are kind of dull rumbling
And its loud and rough screams
I hear without seeing until the Revelation

I wake each time with this awful appearence
Howling in front of me in the Moonlight
It's Eyes look through my soul

Before Disappering...

C.