Circle Of Grief. Enter The Gallery. The Gallery. Zeneszám

Moonlight is falling through the trees,
Alone, desperate and lost.
The gates are opening for me,
Entrance the twilight of the spheres.

I whitnessed a light and the shadows were growing inside,
See the sadness arise, the darkness controlling my mind.

Slowly the path is winding on
Into the moonlight of the sky,
The fear is growing within me,
So cold, my mind is lead astray.

I whitnessed a light and the shadows were growing inside,
See the sadness arise, the darkness controlling my mind.

And as the clouds unfold,
Devouring my emotions... Ascarion...
The darkness is yearning for my soul...
The torture... arrival... gallery...
My... my soul is drawn inside... the gallery...

And as I look beyond the gates
I see reflections of myself.
What will be left when I am gone?
My flesh that's rotting on the ground...

I whitnessed a light and the shadows were growing inside,
See the sadness arise, the darkness controlling my mind.