it's the place where the enemy reigns

I breathe the same air, not taking care of myself,

forced to walk on a cutting edge, the balance is lacking,
with precarious gait, and the usual spirits are always around


stare a point and go straight, head on the horizon

bite the bullet and feed yourself with what you find

the more you go on the more things you'll have to protect
the more you advance the more the spirits will rage
whispering voices call my name but I don't care


between wrath and anguish, between sadness and spleen
when the will leaves you and the sight tarnishes

when the strenght seizes up, when the glaze go down
beyond the clouds, you glimpse the origin
from which you escaped and that you regret


it's the place where the enemy reigns


the only one where you can hope to cohabit
when you'll be teared to shreds, the spirits will subside
choose between a slow agony or an endless sporadic sharp pain