Bonaparte - Misanthrope

From the Mount Sinai

Doves are taking flight

Death sends it’s messengers

From the shadow’s torments

With naked feet

Follow the ascetics path

A hand holding a candle

Singing canticles

I make my sign of the cross

Mourning, rites and sorrow

Enter the purgatory’s room

For a last holy sacrement

A mahogany door reflecting the sunset

Bless the dying in a sparkling sky

Contemplation

Dismal meditation

Contemplation

To the walls of lamentations

In the moist alcove

Surrounded by her family

I cannot endure to believe in it

Hitting her breast with my fists

The head facing god

In a neverending scream

The confession must start

I’m tired of seeing her in the throes of death

Contemplation

Dismal meditation

Contemplation

To the walls of lamentations

She’s nude and lying down

My muse is sleeping

Beautiful worried angel

Shining and eternal

Shivering at the bell’s toll

Serene and ironical

Host, Judas and nail Mary

Miserable absolution

The priest is desirous

To finally end it

His bony face

Enjoys death with a real pleasures

Shivering at the bell’s toll

Serene and ironical

Host, Judas and nail Mary

Miserable absolution

The priest is desirous

To finally end it

His bony face

Enjoys death with a real pleasures

From the Mount Sinai

Doves are taking flight

Death sends it’s messengers

From the shadow’s torments

Ah ah ah…