Город Между Мирами

Pain, obedience and fear
Turned to ways of our lives.
Skies above us all had gone
Into just thin gray line.
We"re kept in the limits of sense,
By the strings, but are they strong enough?
And locked are the doors of defense
By the small gods inside of us.
Angel, angel.
Small gods inside of all of us.
Angel, angel.
True face we hope to see in us.
Descended by heavenly heights
Comes invincible thirst
To break free our souls that had charred
And to throw off our thorns.
Words that sound in our heads
Are just ruthless iron bells.
We talk to the involute depths
And to small gods inside of us.
Angel, angel.
Small gods inside of all of us.
Angel, angel.
True face we long to find in us.

In the shadows of the thorns
The all-seeing eye would watch me bourn,
Dropped in the blear hollow land
I"ve lost my ground to stand.
From the door of time to the pit of space
Drop me your ash, leave me your trace,
In the edge of all we will fold,
So please behold, behold.
O won"t you take me
To the heaven of togetherness,
O won"t you bring me
To the night of foreverness.
In the sacred laurelled sky
The all-seeing eye would watch me die,
It doesn"t matter what I"ve found,
For whom I searched for"s in my arms.
From the door of time to the pit of space
Remain your sigh, remain your face,
In the edge of all, though dead and cold,
Please behold, behold.
O won"t you carry me
To the lighthouse of unconsciousness,
Away from my crying home -
Abyss of blueness.
O won"t you take me
To the heaven of togetherness,
O won"t you bring me
To the night of loneliness,
O won"t you carry me
To the sea of ever bliss,
Up from my pealing home -
Abyss of blueness.

When the wounded heaven
Drops the frustrating fall
Into the deepest hollow
Of thy dazed and splitting soul
I shall be there,
All moans and woes will be consoled,
Right there, so close,
And sow the finest seeds of hope.
I shall enchain
The voice of hearts
That cry for love,
And bore the ground the bitter tears.
I shall engrave
Every single beat
Soaring thru time
And heard the sky the erratic pulse.
When, tearing thee asunder,
The breathe of hurricanes does flow
Into the wretched peace
Of mind that thee and I together own,
I won’t be far,
I’d walk those miles again,
I shall be there
To take away thy bales.
I shall conjoin two minds
Though they’re flushing and aching,
I’ll draw them on canvas of life,
When they’re rushing and breaking.
I’ll pray to the creatures of night
To be brought away on the wings of chaos.
Estranged I’m still waiting for awe
And for land whence I came from.
I shall enchain
The voice of hearts
That cry for love,
And bore the ground the bitter tears.