The Paradox
At The Gates
Prodigious dreams, entangled and black
Coiled in the corners of life
Hallucinations, engraved in our bones
Futile, monotonous lives
The poison circle, eyes within eyes
How black our madness to be
Spectral salvation, unfurling itself
Through labyrinthian nights
To carry these dead notes
As we stare into the abyss
Our ruin, twisted and black
Into the starving void
Dehumanization of our art and culture
Parent of horrors to be
Mankind is nothing but self-conscious flesh
The triumph of our own deceit
The structures thеy now crumble
The fevеred liturgy
Black with the scars of madness
We hide within our crypts
Through mad winds of terror
Dreams are disturbed
In pulse after heaven-wide pulse
Older than darkness, colours unknown
Within the pit of death
Heroic dreams now trampled
By figures in rust-coloured robes
A region, illuminated
Into the nuclear dawn
The structures they now crumble
The fevered liturgy
Black with the scars of madness
We hide within our crypts
And as all hope turns to black
Into the dreamless night
As all hope turns to black
Of pessimism and paradox
No hope – all black
No hope – all black
And as all hope turns to black
Into the dreamless night
As all hope turns to black
Of pessimism and paradox
Of pessimism and paradox
Of pessimism and paradox