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/текст одноимённой песни группы Exitus Letalis/ One last breath - and welcome to Sekhet-Aarah, unrecognized and always unexpected land. The voice of wilderness is now sepulchral, to be its one grit's echo you still can pretend. Hail Sekhet looking through the Eye that created you, supplicate Mekhen to keep Ra's way to those who're buried deep and won't be shined... Ten tortures - and welcome to Sekhet-Khatepeth, some kind of Elysium - maybe blessed? - fields. For lack of rivers even sand could be turned red, before that's done - enjoy the landscape underneath. Don't forget the words. Kitab al-Mayyib, like the world, belongs to those who took leap. Scribe takes the incense and gets ready to present this depot of your soul in the incrusted bowl to council of the Lords. Not only minor chords can be played on the strings made of your nerves and limbs... And... furioso symphonies... Hate's still the thing that can open gates of the comprehension. Thunder sounds so close and beats like pounder. Heat of Sekhet-Aarah remembers some aura of your wound, of you - spellbound and praising the Sekhet's grandeur! Don't forget the words. Kitab al-Mayyib, like the world, belongs to those who took leap. Only scent of incense remains and reminds that some time in veins there were blood and you were alive. But the realm of Seth has no rives. © Бернт Хильдегард, 2008 Дата публикации: 18.01.2008 21:18:46 Просмотров: 2417 Если Вы зарегистрированы на нашем сайте, пожалуйста, авторизируйтесь. Сейчас Вы можете оставить свой отзыв, как незарегистрированный читатель. |