Audioteca

An eternal cycle of chaos, pest and rot
the wheel of fortune spins endlesly
tormented in hell,
manipulated by spawn and lackeys of evil...
Tormented in hell...

Blind souls as sheeps
they follow
the false preacher
whorshiped
by the whore,
the bastard
and the traitor.

Possessed by
sick people
ripped, mutilated
Tormented in their hell
they never will be heard.

Infernal legions
will bleed them
as pariahs the world
would see them
and then in rivers of blood
their flag they´ll seen to stain.

Their decay will end
purified in the avernal fire,
we have created for them.
Tormented in hell.

Self destruction science
at service of mankind.

A través de las sombras de la noche en este silencioso mundo
levantamos nuestras voces para cantar con tristeza en el funeral de un ángel.

Como un ejército,

como príncipes de las potestades de los aires,

elevamos a los cielos nuestro blasfemo lamento

desafiando a los dioses por nuestra mortal existencia.

Lamento perpetuo que emerges del fondo de mi alma;

todo lo que amo ahora perecerá en las llamas.

Lamento perpetuo

que alimentas mi odio, 

lamento perpetuo que emerges 

del fondo de mi alma angustiada

desgarrándose entre la vida y la muerte.

Quiero callar mis gritos, pero en mi mente 

se repite como un eco el mismo pensamiento. 

¡Moriré!

En el negro horizonte caen las horas,

el silencio toma cuerpo emanando  ecos y gemidos 

que brotan de los cuatro picos de la tierra.

Es la sinfonía de la muerte, 

que se pasea en el antiguo universo,

 proveniente de mi alma angustiada 

que toca los acordes de un órgano viejo

rodeado de flores y velas de cera que dejará de sonar 

solo cuando mi cuerpo, 

perplejo y sin vida, se encuentre colgado

ante el destino de   ir al mundo del silencio.

Lamento perpetuo
que alimentas las llamas de mi alma angustiada
desgarrándose entre la vida y la muerte.

We look like
The sore that lingers on your skin

The stone in the shoe
That embeds
Itself
In your feet
The necrosis that slowly spreads  
Infesting
Whatever is in our path

We look like huge vessels
Empty and imperfect
That yearn to fill their interior
With a non-existent light
We have been banished from
The beginning by our origin
We were abandoned to our fate
And in spite of that
They point the finger at us and blame us
For the way things are

Hatred heats
The blood to the point that it rots it 
The mind is flooded with resentment
And revenge (X2)  

We are the heirs of the serpent’s gen

It is not possible
To blame those who were born in filth
They are marked as the origin
Of the darkness
But it is impossible
To remain blindfolded  
In the presence of truth
And knowledge
Questioning actions
And reasoning made us free
And that is why we are called
The children of darkness

Hatred heats
The blood to the point that it rots it 
The mind is flooded with resentment
And revenge (X2) 

We are the heirs of the serpent’s gen
Practitioners of the rituals of the fallen angels

Hatred heats
The blood to the point that it rots it 
The mind is flooded with resentment
And revenge (X3) 

Hiding the truth
Will only make us
More rebellious

And uneasy
Even if it costs
Us eternal contempt

On the dwelling dark
of the lost souls
the screams rise
from the silence
and every second
will be converted
in centuries of
desolation.

Is there so deep
where the light of the stars
don't reach to arrive
and the sun will outshine
everlastingly
the yield of his throne
to the moon
(Queen of the night).

Don't remains nothing
no hopes, no mirths
only I have the wish
to die forever
and sleep between
the silence of the
ancient ruins.

But all is senseless
every dream to be
left behind
and every illusion whitered
only flames, oblivion and
silence.