At the Edge of the Nebula Mortis

The long cold voyage is reaching the end
And destiny that can be forged as well as faded
Into the pestilential mists of spiritual profanity
My eyes are eternally searching the winds
The apocalyptic windsthat ride over the majestic ruins
Finding the past, unseen and enormous
A time of repent and glorification
Learning from the ancient black dawn of the thousand beasts
All breathing fire and blood
All breeding the most supreme race of volcanics entities
In my veins, in their veins the magma of wisdom floats
As the hate and revenge pumps in our cold and relative hearts
But the journey is still far from ending
Still painful odysseys are coming...
(The most valuable yet the most agonizing is the one to reach the root of my damnation...)