Monstrosity of all monstrosities shackles with him

The madness of the spirit scrambles up

As if the flaming swords of truth

Were finishing their works of doom

Torn his entrails in two

Alegory of situations seems like panopticum

Of lost souls, lost people

Deep under the cover of disguise

Thousands of truths, thousands of lies, thousands of masks

Angels like lighting through the night

Reveal, malform, cover

What will be the end to all

Well immortality is just a dream

Will everything return to the Womb?