Scars of Greed - Diary of Dreams

O’angels come to guide me in my sacred land

Thine holy glance enlights my chamber

Stranger worlds in fractal thoughts

A gentle thrill

I’m crowned with thorns

Who will remember this?

Quiet doms of whispering circling in my head

Collapsing mental boundries

Draconic lips of mine

And angels still corrupting with a silent word of wisdom

O’angels find their sacred land

In my debility they bloom

Kill my flesh

Kill my skin

Cure my sore

Cure my belief

A wince, just to regret

To wear a willow

A wince, just to regret self — sacrifice

To wear the willow- lost within

And grieve for what I’ve lost — a mournful eye

My thirst for life embodies prayers at night

I sentence myself — a wilful execution

Disclaiming innocence indeed

O’angel find their sacred land in mine

What they have never dared to be

O’angel find their sacred land in mine

Where they can be what they greed

O’angel find their sacred land in mine

For they can still make me believe

O’angel find their sacred land in mine

For they have crowned me …

…Crowned with thorns