Tekster: In Flames. Scorn.

I parish and nobody will know
as my mouth remains still
my heart awaits me, filled with gravel
as the pain grows with each touch

since I marked her out from my tower
reality focused through forbidden lenses
she owns enough of preciousness
a penalty given by the source

but I still have no choise through
the hinderens freighten
a labarynth closing at the edge of space

but they never allow
she?s shut....for all beings but one
I give, I scorn, I treath