Author: admin9976

Can your heart be ripped apart,
And then built again?
Can it still beat the same way,
After having bled away?
Can unshared love be light,
And carried with delight?
Can a gentle smile be all you need,
To keep alive the flame you feed?
Can joy be felt again,
And love maintained?
Can the stars be lit anew,
When far away from all you knew?
And then can I still love you,
With our two worlds drifting away?

If I’m a snake of earth,
And you a snake of fire,
Then my desires,
Might just be made of dirt.

I was born in a forest,
And you on a pyre,
I grew up as a poet,
While you built an empire.

I see you as an empress,
Who carried life through the blood stream,
While my life was modest,
And only filled with dreams.

Tu passes ta vie à pleurer les yeux fermés,
Je voudrais te les ouvrir vers la réalité,
Tu te mutiles au poison que tu bois,
Et la blessure est l’émotion je vois…

Une fois sur deux la lune t’aspire,
Une fois sur deux le soleil t’emporte,
Désormais seul l’état second t’inspire,
Et le liquide alcoolisé est la porte…

Mais le lendemain celle-ci s’efface,
Et tu te retrouves en prison,
Où le vomi est la seule trace,
D’une nuit comblée par la boisson…

Tu ne faisais qu’admirer la poignée,
Embrassant la porte sans jamais l’ouvrir,
Tes doigts glissant sur le sang des entailles du passé,
Qui, toujours présentes, gangrènent ton avenir !

 Ne laisse pas les vers se nourrir,
Coupe le mal à la racine,
Tu n’es pas condamné à souffrir,
Lève les yeux, regarde le ciel, imagine…

English Translation

You spend your life crying with closed eyes,
I would like to open them to the reality,
You mutilate yourself with the poison that you drink,

And the pain is the emotion I see…

Every other day the moon breathes you in,
Every other day the sun carries you away,
From now on, only the drunkenness inspires you,
And the alcoholic liquid is the door…

But the day after it disappears,
And you find yourself in prison,
Where the vomit is the only trace,
Of a night gratified by the drink…

You only admired the door knob,
Kissing the door without ever opening it,
Your fingers slipping on the blood of the past wounds,
Which still present, turn your future gangrenous !

Don’t let the worms feed themselves,
Cut the evil at the root,
You are not condemned to suffer,
Raise your eyes, look at the sky, imagine…

Sometimes society impedes us from living,
Defeat, fear and despair seem to linger.
But we say that’s it, stop moaning, be Vikings!
It’s time for us to scream and to fight like masters!

Our passion is never going to be destroyed!
We are the warriors of a new musical atmosphere!
We think as individuals but move as a crowd!
As children of chaos we stand firm and cry no tears!

This is the power of heavy metal!
This is the truth in our heart!
That comes straight from our soul!
This is a true warrior art!

When our hearts suffer and howl,
And when our eyes begin to cry,
The deep song of a growl,
Is enough to make us smile!

Outside we walk and look ahead,
Feeling the cold wind on our skin.

Inside we mosh and bang our heads,
With music considered as sin!

This is the power of heavy metal!
This is the truth in our heart!
That comes straight from our soul!
This is a true warrior art!

When life oppresses us, metal is our shield!
Like a guardian as we stride!
The decibels invade the field,
And we face the battle full of pride!

Our instruments and voices are our spears!
In front of death, no hesitation,
There is no place for fear,
We are a minority with a strong devotion!

Don’t deny the power of heavy metal!
Listen to the song of your hearts!
That comes straight from your soul!
This is the true warrior art!

Frail figure,
Innocent eyes,
Appeasing smile,
Elegant gait,
Carressing hand,

Dusky mane.
Witness I,
Her almond gaze,
And her glory.
Simplicity,
Hiding treasures.

I saw this shadow of myself,
Tried to catch it where it dwelled,
Cosy between ancient stones,
Where history had flown.

It danced softly with the light,
That enraptures the spirit of the night,
Between the stones they made love,
Witnessed only by the stars above.

Light and shadow bred a child,
Leading their dreams to run wild,
Giving life without pain,
Where the old stones had lain.

I looked at it with envy,
My heart filled with melancholy,
And when my hand reached the stones,
I was left there all alone.

Yet a soft breeze carried me,
To where the light became the sea,
And in these old stones,
I now see, there is hope.

My queen,
My sweet darling of the night,
My soft light touch of hope.
My queen,
We dance in my day dreams,
But at dusk I’m all alone.

This girl was worth a poem,
Yet I let my thoughts drift,
And my hand sway,
To lift,
The thoughts away.
Yet this girl is still worth a poem,
And I should have let my thoughts drift,
To behold this lovely gift.

Her brown skin shone, but not for me,
Her smile sang, but not for me,
Her hands danced, but not for me.
And I here, drank, sad and lonely,
Putting on paper her thought story,
Could this coffee then, be for me?

Tiredness,
A false promise,
A bed that betrays me as I wake,
Trails of blood and coffee in my wake.
Tiredness,
The pain in my shoulders,
A life I can’t shoulder.
Tiredness,
Limping on and on,
Till I fall,
Never to stand again.