Epitome XIV - Blut Aus Nord

In a glittering halo of lights defying reason, the magnificent dome of a black

Temple looms over souls

In the cradle of God they let themselves be reborn, to contemplate without

keeping anything, to hope or to expect

There was nothing left of these centuries that bent the body, extinguished the

life, denied the pure existence and its principle

Alone a profound echo answered the origins and magnified with each new

breakthrough of the silence

Time no longer pounding, nothing had been, nothing would ever be

It’s architecture of monumental fantasy, it is false comfort in of itself

In a halo of brilliant darkness, they merged with the sublime moment,

the Great Evil that all life awaits

They saw their improvised work collapse on itself then serenely forgot it

without wondering about what follows

They sank within the ephemeral, supreme, delicious, alcove sanctuary of the

immortals

That which was is no longer, that which will be is not, and the chaos fell

silent

And the chaos fell silent