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Was the beginning of time, the most hazardous moment in the whole sense of “existence”, as much as it became an habit in the future and knocks with the subtility of naïve fingers the gate of storms?

It could be said that the pearly gates were built under the threat of the adversarial retaliation? Inside the anxious sight of the imminent combat.

Isn’t the call for blood a riskful act of confidence?

Isn’t the “loss” a trial to the risk of lift your aim through a sentient absence?

The assumption of this risks, brings strife and a predictable course

Which is to be celebrated with the blowing of trumpets

May the archangelic choir fill the horror of the corpses burnt phony as same?

The dissociation reactivates old graves, corpses lift, souls ascends. Ghoulish return.

Misty paradise, the essence of old burnt memories fills our lungs

and the chants of ancient lore cry in eternity fading with the evil laughter.

Evil laughter of dread recollections.

Enlighten! The robbed corpses. Lift the veil of the transcendental witchcraft

eat from the flower of end. Assume the destiny of condemnation forever

to blow the Devil’s trumpet forevermore!