A terrible racket makes me suffer, like a fanfare

Marching throughout my head, booming so loud my soul has become deaf...

Nevertheless, reality stands firm, but a very strange conceptual world

Occurs inside this mad, distorted ode

Behind my eyes, comes the ludicrous crowd, full of movie makers' imagery

So forth i am, so forth i dream

Frenzied and rushed unceasingly

Drawn by the wizard's patterns

My mind is no longer my own

Above those hard-packed illusions, bright with pictures, that shall kill the wise's vigour

Is spoiled a great generation

Mankind has lost its mind, and therewith the arable ground, the vast field, the great

Which the scholars own

Cursed species - humans

Can you imagine?

What shall save you, once the intelligence

Will become speechless?

Locked into silence?

When you will remain a fabric's device

Old majesty, deprived from her kingdom, her memory will never carry on

There goes the orb of a system

Ones, adorn with a sad eden, and others tried to make it perfect