Innestengt i eikekiste - Khold

Innestengt i eikekiste,

livet nektes deg?

miste.

Sansene i evig v?

ke,

mugg og m?

rke, fuktig r?

te.

Panikk som griper, pust som hiver,

sorte kl?

r som skraper, river,

gjennom smerten, angsten, vreden,

lange rift i kisteveden.

Levende og vak gravd ned,

?nsket evig, ensom fred.

?ndedrag i sakte kvelen,

ingen frihet gitt til sjelen.

Eim av muld og vassen jord,

kald og t?

rket r?

dsvart blod.

Never revet opp til benet.

Innestengt for d?

dens scene

Trapped in an oak chest,

life is denied you?

loose.

The senses in eternal v?

ke,

mold and m?

rich, moist r?

tea.

Panic that grips, breath that pulls,

black kl?

r as scraper, river,

through the pain, the anxiety, the anger,

long rifts in the coffin wood.

Living and awake buried,

Wanted eternal, lonely peace.

Breathing in slow suffocation,

no freedom given to the soul.

Eim of soil and watery soil,

cold and t?

rket r?

black blood.

Never torn up to the bone.

Trapped for d?

its scene