Subterranean Masquerade Observation Through Metamorphosis
And now… I'm lying here
Watching in silence
The process, almost complete,
This door is locked, enchanted with demise
And an image foreseen from the other room… Is this me?
The struggling to gain the throne of his own senses,
Dressed in disguise,
They paint him white, from head to toe
Oblivious to the void, its absence will apply
Staring, at the edge of time
Circulating without remorse
No regret for knowing too much
And staring at the eye of my world
The walls will stand tall and proud tomorrow
In this place where time stands still
Impossible to cure my image,
Impossible to cut my will
Mirrors upon mirrors of my soul trapped in a maze,
But it's useless to express the pain
Room 63 is silent tonight
Behind the door, you can barely hear
Footsteps to another dream
From here
