The Frozen Wind
1. |
Behind The Electric Veil
07:09
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The Silence I can feel is killing me...
Hissing electric cables drag on the floor,
like poisonous snakes they slowly move towards me.
They sinuously cling to my legs,
to painfully penetrate finally in my flesh.
And in my thoughts.
Chrome and cobalt tongues
tell me of distant voices,
but their indistinct whispers are just
a COLD electric hiss.
The truths they suggest
are like those of Eve’s snake,
they seduce me making me believe
I can approach knowledge.
In a plastic and silicon forest
pervaded by tiny insects
continuously chattering
with their electronic wailings
I look at least for a soul, who could
communicate with me,
but in vain.
We built our Babel,
but at what price?
The spectre of incomprehension
has been fluttering among us for a long time.
It’s a strange paradox that
in a world ruled by media
we’re no longer able
to communicate so deep
Copper in the veins,
sparkling glass in the gaze,
the cold metallic heart
beats to the rhythm of millesimal frequencies.
Pre-packed emotions,
pressed and sealed
in small sterile boxes
one hundred and sixty characters long.
I miss so much
the ocean of emotions
that I could only see in your REAL eyes.
We built our Babel,
but what was the price?
The spectre of incomprehension
has been fluttering among us.
Flickering and pale faces
Appear like ghosts
Behind the electric veil
Of an illusion that leads only
Towards the awful silence.
It’s so very cold…
I hear only silence,
I can hear only silence
between this messy tangle of digital bodies.
Lost like a warm drop in a cold sea
made of a multitude of people
all wearing their deformed masks.
A strange sickness caught me.
Why can’t I communicate anymore?
What’s wrong with my heart?
Have I lost my soul?
Have I lost my soul?
I cannot communicate anymore.
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2. |
Slowly She Dies
06:29
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So here I am once and again
crossing this damned door.
And what is this desolation surrounding me?
Here nothing more,
only flesh and bones in boredom.
The Silence seeped under the skin,
how deep will it penetrate?
What the hell am I doing here?
My soul is dying,
pierced by seven spikes she’s slowly dying, slowly...
My body is the Nuremberg maiden
that hugs her more and more.
Till death.
Faded images of dead bodies,
grotesque laughter, disfigured faces.
(I can hear my soul crying in the distance)
Hypocrite smiles which easily reveal
the real thoughts surrounding me.
And an instinctive will
to fool around on top of someone.
Suddenly stunned I open my eyes wide,
while a tense rocking drags me into the abyss,
I’m sinking, sinking,
I’m sinking into the abyss.
Get away from me,
leave this bed of dirt and shame,
I can’t be like I once was.
By this time too many spectres
come to wake me up in my sleep.
There is a mortal sickness inside me.
Maybe my relationship with others
Is damaged for ever?
My soul is dying,
pierced by seven spikes slowly she dies,
slowly...
My body is the Nuremberg maiden
that hugs her more and more.
Till death.
Another sharp spike
pierces my poor soul.
And you,
looking so free from the weight of existence,
how do you do it?
What is this dark secret
You have understood and I haven’t?
Why are you keeping it for yourselves?
Perhaps this secret does not exist,
and, alone, I sail the sea of
ghosts and illusions,
looking for something which is not there.
I can feel my legs give way, the temptation to
drop to my knees is strong.
Drop to my knees, yes. I could.
And abandon everything, everyone...
The path will be long and uncertain,
If I want to heal I have to dig inside of me,
like Knowledge I’ll wander desperate
in search of my Truth.
I’ll penetrate into the bowels of the Earth,
I’ll purify myself in the warm mountain’s womb,
And with the sweat of my brow
I’ll seek endlessly the hidden stone.
I need to heal...
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3. |
Arabesque
06:03
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I remember well when your dark eyes
were emerging from the gloom of our staircase
and my frozen lips from the morning cold
were resting on your warm lips.
I remember well when your blue eyes
were laughing at the surprise
blooming from my hands,
and your words and hugs were consoling me
from the sullen weariness of my thoughts.
But the glass cracked and it drew
an arabesque of fissures above us.
Hugging above the oblivion, spirit and mind
lost their balance and fell down.
And now that I know
you’re an illusion,
I realize that maybe I didn’t love you,
but only a creation of my mind.
The shadows get longer,
reality loses its shape,
I feel a silence
that desperately cries,
while the sickness slowly advances,
the sickness slowly advances...
It mixes with my blood, reaches my heart,
and my heart grows cold.
So cold…
Every time I walk
among the ruins of my devastated soul,
I see Love and Illusion holding hands.
And you, my fellow traveller,
do you have the courage to realize
that you love what you WANT and not what IS?
When the glass cracks and it draws
an arabesque of fissures above us,
hugging above the oblivion, spirit and mind,
like disgraced tightrope walkers,
lose their balance and fall down.
And now that you know
I’m an illusion
all your castles
crumble into dust
and drag you to the cliff’s end.
The shadows get longer,
reality loses its shape,
I feel a silence
that desperately cries
and roughly chokes my thoughts.
And now that we know
we are an illusion
all our castles
crumble into dust
and drag us to the cliff’s end.
The shadows get longer,
reality loses its shape,
I feel a silence
that desperately cries
and roughly chokes my thoughts.
Now,
once again,
I patiently put together
the pieces of glass,
and I reassemble
a glass bell of purity
above us.
I love you ‘cause I don’t know you
and your deepest thoughts
are an enigma to me.
And so they will have to stay,
so that not even once
can I tell you that I know you,
and one thousand times
that I love you.
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4. |
Sinking
02:16
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5. |
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What is this mask I feel on my face?
It is getting
heavier and heavier…
The frozen outside wind
has got me used to often wearing it,
and to shelter from its breath
I always end up
wearing it.
Once I played with my mask
like a child in front of the mirror,
I wore it for a little while
and then I took it off:
it was nice to see myself
with other features,
it was even stimulating.
Then the game
became dangerous.
Now at home,
curled up in a corner
I take off my mask,
and I touch with my fingers
my ruined skin.
My mortal sickness
has spread inside,
I cannot communicate
with myself anymore.
Mask and soul
don’t touch each other anymore
and the silent void between them
is killing me.
Masks and masks circle me,
they come up to me with their paper smiles.
I am tired of this continuous macabre carnival,
rather than people dressed up as monsters,
I see monsters dressed up as
people.
A new awareness elevates me,
taking me towards barren lands.
Here, where time doesn’t exist,
Appearance,
entirely cut off from essence,
is by now out of my control.
Is there something inside me?
Or have I become hollow
Like this fuckin’ mask?
My mortal sickness has spread inside,
I cannot communicate with myself anymore.
Mask and soul don’t touch each other anymore
and the silent void between them
is killing me.
I am tired of this
continuous macabre carnival,
rather than people dressed up as monsters,
I see monsters dressed up as people.
And to live with the fear
Of having become cold like death…
Touch my lips,
Are they really so cold?
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6. |
Endless Spiral
09:42
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My soul is dying,
pierced by seven spikes
slowly she dies, slowly...
My body is the Nuremberg maiden
that hugs her more and more.
Till death.
Floating in a blurred dream,
in the delirium of my sickness
the shadows get longer,
all reality loses its shape.
Maybe my ability to connect
is lost forever,
people's emotions I used to feel
are now reverberating from afar...
I feel the distance...
I feel the coldness...
The frozen wind
burns the skin.
If the silence
takes hold of me
I’ll fall into the void
of an endless spiral:
the less I feel understood
the more I’ll close myself off,
the more I close myself off
the less I will be understood
I have a pierced heart
that in silence
continues to beat.
Certain it is
that inside me
there’s something broken,
but I can’t pick up
the pieces of my soul
to piece them back together.
The sorrow deepens.
If the silence
takes hold of me
I’ll fall into the void
of an endless spiral:
the less I feel understood
the More I’ll close myself off
the More I close myself off
the Less I will be understood.
If the silence
takes hold of me
I’ll lose my soul, I know,
empty shell on the ocean’s floor.
With wide open eyes
under the weak moonlight,
walking in my limbo
devastated by the anguish and the oblivion.
Till disappearing…
I can’t establish
a deep relationship anymore.
It’s not the solitude
that scares me.
I’m really afraid
of losing my soul.
And of losing the shivers
that I feel on my skin.
I have a pierced heart
that in the silence
is stopping to beat.
Certain it is
that inside me
there is something broken,
but I can’t pick up
the crocks of my soul
to piece them back together.
My sorrow never ends.
The less I feel understood
the More I’ll close myself off,
the More I close myself off
the Less I will be understood.
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7. |
Despite Your Cries
05:37
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What did you think, Peter,
in those sixty minutes
between one fit of desperation and another?
How closely you came
to the absolute truth,
how much did you understand
how far human foolishness can go?
Sometimes the silence could turn into a cry.
The desperate cry of a person
who is horribly dying.
Full of your naivety
(Only eighteen years old!)
you realized what Man is made of,
and the Ideology, made by himself,
is a monster able to devour you
if you’re in its path.
Devoured…
And you,
pure people seeing that atrocity,
how powerless you felt
in front of a monster
made by yourselves?
How loud you shouted
“Murderers”,
a scream not coming from the throat,
but from the blood,
so devastating
was the truth
you understood
in that moment.
Sometimes the silence could turn into a cry.
The desperate crying of a person
who is horribly dying.
Full of your naivety
you realized what Man is made of,
and the Ideology, made by himself,
is a monster.
Is there a limit
to the pain I’ll have to see?
Faded pictures
constantly spreading in the mind,
and a nasty taste in the mouth.
How many lives in history
have been sacrificed
to the ideologies of Silence?
While the life
was gushing out of you
flowing down a cold wall
and finally mingling
with the dust and the mud,
your dreams
were falling down like
the bright stars
of an august night,
and they were dying on
a barren and bleak
strip of earth.
You see, Peter,
i can’t imagine just how you felt in that moment,
but one thing brings us together:
I often scream out
in the silence too.
And I have the fear that
nobody will hear me.
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8. |
Oceans
07:25
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The ruthless city
stands out above
with its squared outlines.
I feel the throbbing of the electric veins,
cold cables sprawl out
like a deft predator’s
cleverly woven web.
This city hurts me...
Behind the clouds of reminiscence
unbearable sorrows conceal themselves.
Images of long ago continue to appear,
and sharp broken bones dwell in my heart.
Oceans of people
flow over me,
every person
is a frozen wave
that beats down on me.
Memories flooding over me…
Disfigured faces
suddenly going
for a poor man,
like starving hyenas
butchering and ripping out
pieces of flesh from their prey.
Mouths and eyes covered in blood.
They feed on their same species,
finally leaving a ravaged and torn body.
Oceans of people overflow.
A wave taking you by surprise
with its dull stroke.
It sweeps you away
where your feet don’t touch
the bottom.
As if underwater I hear
only confused and hollow sounds,
I can’t breath, my bones freeze,
while thousands of hands grab me
dragging me towards the bottom.
While thousands of hands want to grab me
dragging me towards the bottom.
Dragging me towards
the bottom.
How can I live
with my inner instincts
and my wickedness?
I see them in
other people, and through them
I see now
mine.
Behind the clouds of reminiscence
unbearable sorrows conceal themselves.
Images of long ago continue to appear,
and sharp broken bones dwell in my heart.
Oceans of people flow over me,
Every person is a frozen wave
That beats down on
me.
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9. |
The Continuous Struggle
02:47
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10. |
Three Times
09:21
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The Silence that I feel is killing me...
The last nail pierces the hand,
but the pain of the flesh
is nothing compared to that
of the spirit.
I don’t hate you, men.
I would be dead just the same before long.
A man can’t live alone
with his ghosts for long.
If only I could be sure
not to be forgotten by you,
this agony would be
as sweet as honey.
I can’t hear your voice,
maybe I misunderstood your will?
Break this deafening
Silence that surrounds me,
I beg you...
Three times I died for you, Father,
for the ideal you’ve sown in my heart.
And not even the desert
has succeeded in eradicating this plant.
The first time I died for you was
when I abandoned the materiality of my existence,
disowning my own mother…
The second time was
when I understood,
when I understood what your plan was.
I closed my eyes,
and I saw it.
This is the third time,
I die while thorns are
wrapping round my mind,
nailed to a cross with my ideals.
If only I could be sure
not to be forgotten by you,
This agony would be
as sweet as honey.
I can’t hear your voice,
maybe I misunderstood your will?
Break this deafening
Silence that surrounds me...
Your silence pierces me more
than these sharp long nails.
I want only a sign
of your approval.
Spread your arms, hug me
and speak to me,
disperse these horrible spectres
that are devouring my soul.
Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.
Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.
I thirst.
Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do.
Woman, this is your son. This is your mother.
It is finished.
And now that I know
you’re an illusion,
all my castles crumble into dust
and drag me to the cliff’s end.
The shadows get longer,
reality loses its shape,
I feel a Silence
that desperately cries
and roughly chokes my thoughts.
I am dying…
My God, my God,
why have you
forsaken me?
Into the Silence
alone I sink with
my broken hopes.
It is finished
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