Rhapsodia Roscida

Mistress of the past will perish and be engraved tomorrow
Gnosis inscribes the canon, you will no longer lean towards the heavenly
Behold, you are pressed because you are a young blood left behind
From evil pressed voices, seek again how to hold my hand even if (do not leave me behind even to the end even if)
Who would shape a false god (woe to the one who shaped a god)
To nothing useful
Poetry to them in joy, you deceive yourself with a straight line
Woe to the falsifiers who approached