Poison oozes from the mouths of sneaky snakes
Who conduct the demonic opera of profane beings 
Under the enchantment of the garish confusions of the fallen angels 
The ritual of the impure invades the fields of the lost innocents
Seduced into the valley of cruel shadows
Of glittering facades
Of values and vapors of tangled cockroaches
Principles are wrong and truths divided
They are loaded with mocking flies and bloodthirsty mosquitoes 
In this cold night in coma
In this cold dark night of the soul

Through the beautiful caves there are the loud voices of the pure lustful 
Under the moans of pleasure of hungry rats 
In this feast of cursed orgies 
Loaded with thirsty, rotting, hideous spiders
Animals without bonds and borders, limited, carnal 
Who contemplate the victory of darkness under the light of the false prophets
They contemplate the banquet of glory in the hall of the tireless
Who contemplate the circle of the terror under a gale of lust
They contemplate ardent loves in the hope of the end of the world 
They worship madness
Ogres, fools, stupid, all lost at the end of the tunnel

Tormented
The suffering that grips the bodies of the living dead is torture
In these strange alleys and lanes within the psychic labyrinth
Of dirty secrets and grotesque underworlds
The temples are raw, naked and crude
Under the heat of the same bodies heaped with desires
In an intimate setting of narrow streets 
Among maggots and worms that lead the malevolent dance
Under the crumbling black roof of the wildest fantasies
The storm blooms mental suicides
Of jokes exhaled at dawn prayer
In the end, only delusions, tragic disillusions
Deep laughter resounds in the sound of the night 
The bodies are sick with sticky saliva
From the same dirty night of thirsty orgasms
From the same dirty night in the abyss of the Dantesque Inferno
The dissidents are numb with decadent passions
The dawn of the sleepers has opened the gates of the curse.

Marcelo Moreira