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spectral lore - the cold march towards eternal brightness كلمات الأغنية

winter awakes. cold wind and white drapery everywhere
i emerge through the ice. every nerve comes alive in excruciating pain

here, the soul fights eternally, inertia and stagnation its nemesis
the march towards actualization begins from the plainest of pathways
yet behind every step, as heavy or lumpy as it may be, lies a purpose

what is the fabric that makes thе dreams of day?
the statue of sеlf, sculpted from the hardest, finest rock
a most n0ble warrior
i see it in a great distance, concealed by mist

the world cast a small shadow over me
it is he, the tragic hero, who does not simply want to grow
but to change

what is, that makes man?
what is, that makes the over_man?

time passes as i cannot ever seem to get close enough
yet, eventually, the mist collapses and the figure clears out
it is crude, without details, contorted into grotesque proportions
empty on the inside, a simple sh_ll
the wind blows softly and shatters it into pieces

around the remains, a multitude of streams pour their waters
flooding the wretched land, carrying me, away with them
into another place, of light
the seeker is tired to look back
the gaze must awaken outwards, to be fully alive

rejoice, soul
touch the ecstatic truth
sense the eternal now
awake within the gaia

the broken, constituent parts were carried along with the stream
each one is the name of a virtue
i reassemble and bury them within the ground

i still carry the black beast, chained inside. and all past rememberance
what is my ideal then? but a dream with roots in the ground
of roots weaved together into a colossal, collective trunk
that rises, piercing the sky, into the depths of the universe

throughout the times of perplexity and illusion
we’ve got some last gods left, worth keeping
that go by such names as kindness and honesty

i want us to hold swords again
as in the years of the old tales
but this time, to fight for dignity and solidarity
i want us to look like idiots into the eyes of the dragons
like newborns, lying under the sun

against the waves of darkness and death
i’m walking with eternal brightness in my eyes

- spectral lore

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