Thorns - Decembre Noir

One great metamorphosis arises

Across my pitiful life

Since I am your earth’s depression

Three long nails are enough

Around to cover the wood

When rusty thorns numb my senses

I taste sweetness of the crucifixion

Let me bleed among the crown

You can never give your face my pain

Upon death’s mountain I wait for the stars

I still feel the hungry touch of the sun

Flames that burn my tortured barren skin

But the cross makes me strong

For what I become

I am your captive butterfly

So high beneath the sky

And I close my sleepy eyes

Fall with my thoughts and you

To a forlorn red temple that cries

For the lament of broken dreams and oaths

You’ve swallowed up the shiny fruits of my love

The kisses that you’ve given were not honest

Only your greed for mind devastation

Slowly I kiss the final line of own self-righteousness

I hear and see the clouds cry — Your heaven’s black water sigh

Inside this storm I am alone

Like a useless stone that must atone

Within a cold perdition’s fire

The doomed man underneath the salt of your tragedies mire