Waking up in the midst of empty fiery world
When my eyes are still closed by a shadow from cold
When my ears are still pinched and hell others uphold
And when my lips are still zipped in a box so old

I keep living in the garden of gold blossoms
Sweeping the bold flesh of a messy black real realms
And burning each piece of their melody that cries
From where all the black stays and all the white flies

For I let them in my pure water and the boils
And that they already reach the fog of redness
I was truly awakened by the growl of thunders
And that it pushed me to break the rule of silence

Now, let my sight be the shield of the sphere from heat
Let my sound be the palace of the losing lit
Let my voice be the harmony of the cracked beat
And let my bloody ink to be all's guardian lift