AGNUS Dei (PART ONE)
Can you hear the call of the ziganes? Their vitriolic throats filtering the air, to spite the names of their love’s one, with fork tongues!
The blossom sky breaking under the spell of their long banshees, leaving places, to dusty golden wounds on his greyish face.
Hypnotic ghosts piercing through the ashes of their ancestors, flowers searching for new hopes…
Children’s of the holocaust, phoenix of a new millennium…
Keep growing, holding tight, twisted around the fine line of life!
And as the bursting lips of the clouds gave their last remorseful wet cry, the call of the ziganes invade the space with ever more fervour!
The world wears his most dignified black dress, to come and pay tribute to his burn’s one.
His windy fingers felting the rusty wires, where so many hands had bled!
Caressing the walls with feather tenderness, the stone still impregnated by their screams…
The black lace of his robe flirting with the mournful soil, where blood had fed his flesh.
His sunny eyes fill with new dawns, sweeps the shower’s rooms with sunrise tears, the smell of fear still haunting…
Children’s of the holocaust, phoenix of a new millennium…
Reborn from the fire of hate, listening to the call of their loves one, the ziganes are coming…
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