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SAD THEORY
THE LADY & THE TORCH |
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Dropping Dry Leaves
[Carlos / Juan]
Whispers from time is heard and embrace dead trees
Autumn falls merciless, crossing land: pale season fades man
Nothing is done, nothing but dirt, and places damp seize.
In flames, you call the heartless, draining mind: bloody
No quimeras,
only empty blows out of gentle desire
Fancy thrusts
the mourning mood fairly slow
Dissemble
hideous beatings steadily arose
Suavity holds drums sounds along with dim rays
Shame hangs sagacity above groans of grief
Liquor spreads nonsense chords in oaks
Bride's velvet embraces cold corpses.
Oh wind! Carry my conscious. Untie my presence.
Struggle with men's contempt
Deceive the illusion of being a knight.
Effusive delirium states above certainty;
All is nothing: truth is a fake.
Hoisting sounds from pallid stars
Devote sonorous pain to eternal rest
Young Faith's sordid smile ponders:
Memory in Mausoleum, mendacity in me!
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