A vengefull night of new horizon,
devours the world like Jesus on its cross,
despites the universe, is it surprising,
without regrets of every loss.
On ocean floats a lonely vessel,
a dying soul that's ragged and tattered,
sails on the winds that blows caresses,
a broken spirit raged and shattered.
Named on the god of fear
its star's the only beacon in existence.
In navigation so surreal
rips off the waves with its persistence.
In cargohold it carry all the wisdom
that's gathered since the birth of time.
A prescious treasure, gems of freedom
along with hatred and misanthropy entwined.
© Joakim from the grave Todos los derechos reservados