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CRIMSON MOONLIGHT LYRICS
"Veil of Remembrance" (2004)
1. Intimations of Everlasting Constancy
2. Painful Mind Contradiction
3. Embraced by the Beauty of Cold
4. The Echoes of Thought
5. My Grief, My Remembrance
6. The Cold Grip of Terror
7. Illusion Was True Beauty
8. Contemplations Along the Way
9. Reflections Upon the Distress and Agony of Faith
1. Intimations of Everlasting Constancy
Cold and Darkness, where is your strength?
Ice and Snow, where is your dominion?
When the sun of eternal life rises over the barren wilderness
You flee like scared sparrows
You melt and pour out of time
Sitting there in the snow I felt the cold conquer me
Alone and freezing away from the illusion of warmth which lives to strongly within me
Should I close my eyes for the last time?
Should I give up my breath which makes the light of my life?
Uncertainty doesn't kill
Its sword only cuts the thorns in its way
Many days came and went
Nights streamed rapidly by
Watching the shadows dance in the past
Hearing the flow of rain in the quiet loneliness
The constant quest of man for what is right
The hope of life shining brightest when the night is as darkest?
The mystery smiles at me
Time, coiled up, is held in Thy hand
Oh, God, Thy way is mine
And so, the feeling was reborn
Like the sweet perfume of the deep forest
Like the expectancy of the beast of prey
After its long winter sleep
It was a particular day
Unlike too many others
When I plucked up courage
And rose from my prison bed
Oh, there was heard a familiar sound
The signal of the end of the night
Indicating a recollection was born:
Springtime approaching in all its glorious beauty
Stealthily, silently like a whisper
The Spring
I was given the grace once again to behold dawn
The Gift, it was true
I was there at the horizon of life, at the mirror of the soul
The gate to the feast of light
All concepts have lost their meaning
Few understand what beauty means
Few understand its might
The Gift, a melody born in heaven
An intimation of everlasting constancy
It is dancing in the room
Musical tones fill the silence
Was it but a dream?
No, nothing in the realm of dreams can be so wonderful
I am thirsting for more
The sweetness of Your wine is a remedy
Yes, the sweetness of the wine is beauty fulfilled
Tones saying more than a thousand words
Who can tell their meaning?
2. Painful Mind Contradiction
Feel how it taste, the scraps of the thorns developes the blood that
is flowing without a prevent, down, all the way down until it´s
reaching the groundFeel the taste of the pain who is laughing you
in the face exactly like you have done, in a now looking far away
timeFeel how it draws you to the ground how it passage your
whole situation, the thought feel unreal but yet close, what drives
you – holding you up?
What comes to you...the situation is inevitable, you falling in
the so often safe surrounding, you are thrown around in the
darkness where no one seems to care-Who am i? The question is
an echoe that going round, you don´t know – is there a me? The
nightmare becomes reality everything is dark – you take a shape of
a ghost you don´t know, hiding behind the mask that is choking
you, the blood starts to flow the thorns are reminding, you stapple
around and fall in the shadows where you are alone and empty.
Can no one see? Can no one see? – I fall down in the deep tunnel
there nothing is like me. Can no one see? Can no one see? – Feel
how it draws you to the ground how it passage your week
self esteemCan no one see – i´m obscurity, Can no one see – the
retribution thru me?
The thought is unreal but yet close, my only way – drink the wine,
face the blood, qouncer myself.Lost in my thought, Lost in my
body, feeling the thorns, reminding the pain.I feel how it draws
me to the ground, how it passage my whole situation, the thought
feel unreal but yet close, what drives me holding me up?
Once more the shadows of night have darkened my existence, but
somewhere in my in blackened unpleased mind I have a small
beginning of a remembrance, like an unreadable note from a long
time ago that still is valid.
When the shape is forming I know there will be something more -
I know..At the mirror of my soul – many times I'm convinced – all
concepts have lost their meaning, when the situation is inevitable
and I'm falling down in the so often safe surrounding.
When the question is an echo that going round and I don't know
is there a me?I have my remembrance reminding me that I know;
yes I know there will be something more a new morning -
the everlasting the fullfilled
3. Embraced by the Beauty of Cold
Wrapped up in pain,
Entering a dark pillar hall,
with the most exquisite marble,
polished and sparkling since thousands of years,
I hear the echo of emptiness...
Cautiously I step across the empty floor,
but I notice, uneasy, that my footfalls are soundless.
Scared I hurry into the next hall...
There are statues of pure gold,
decorated with the rarest of gems.
There they stand magnificent and glorious,
watching the sky...
Though there is something which worries me
and at last I stop and see what it is...
What I watch is the bitter face of loneliness.
The cold embrace feels to the innermost corner of my soul.
Was beauty nothing but cold?
What I found beautiful, was it just icy winds?
Was this the room I had been looking for so long?
Was this the place where freedom lives?
My way went on into wilderness,
along the well-known path called Confusion...
After a dark night I approached the big gate,
though I was astonished when I saw that it was more than a gate.
I arrived at a crossroad with two golden gates.
Gift...Mystery...
Who built them there?
What was Remembrance in this?
I am struck by their temptation,
the inviting power which attracts my innermost thoughts.
Stunned by this powerful experience
and grateful for it
I remain hesitantly at the crossroads.
Which path is my way?
Which gate is the opening to the life I wanted?
Oh, Jesus Christ...
I seek Thy Divine wisdom,
I bow before Thy advice...
May Thy hand lead a wavering heart
May Thy word be a torch on my path...
4. The Echoes of Thought
Feel the wish of the thought to break through,
break through every hindrance,
like the soul longs to live for ever.
The walking continues now slowly now fast
It has always been bordered by feelings,
hindrances and the plague of doubt.
But what in this is recollection?
What does this mean?
The echoes of thoughts are heard in the emptiness
that used to be so full of chaos.
The thought wants to break through
to set out and explore every part
of the big and different existence
that was once so full of meaning,
but is now sheer emptiness.
Is this the goal of the walk?
Is it to this void the thought will break.
Perhaps.
What is yet space, unexplored,
comes to view and we catch a hint of
what is further away in the remote distance.
But it disappears as quickly as it appeared
and what is our daily business
is chained and locked to the moment
for the time being
But what in this is recollection?
Have we been here before?
We are still fed with the already known,
The spoils of everyday life.
The power is in their hands –
I don't want to go on like this,
But where am I?
Like a small carriage, drawn by a thousand horses
I am being dragged along,
though with just one word
I could stop it all.
But - can't get myself to bother,
although my hottest wish is to turn around
And go back...
This is a total change.
The surprise is part of the movement,
my subconscious is searching and transforming
and – all of a sudden...
But again it is disappearing
and the walking continues as before
sometimes slowly, sometimes fast.
The question remains:
Is this what I am looking for:
the silence, the echo and the thin, little ray of light
coming from a distant land far away…?
5. My Grief, My Remembrance
Who put an end to all the beauty...?
The splendour of the days gone by...
It´s mild and steady glow that lit up the gloomy loneliness..?
What could turn all the warm and true happiness
Into cold desperate tears without end..?
What made the strong, tough man become again
a scared little boy...?
I watch out over the desert of Death ..
It's silent, barren landscape surrounds me...
I feel cold...
The burning sun, always shining brightly,
Giving me warmth and light...
Tell me, is it gone for ever...?
Has its vitalizing warmth for ever been extinct
By gloomy, heavy fog..?
Again I feel the mortal horror bite me
As I stare at all these deaths
Which were once full of life,
Which were once life itself...
The birds under the sky have fallen in the dark,
Their wings, deprived of their strength, can't carry them any more...
Birdsongs have died away into silence,
Slowly died away has every joyous symphony...
The wild beasts are not to be seen any more,
To their burrows they have returned to find peace for time indefinite...
The acres of flowery meadows,
The flowers have bowed their heads to the ground,
And have all returned to earth...
Just the thistles and thorns are still standing erect
As I stand like a withered rose
Alone with all my pain...
To the brim full of sorrow,wounded and forgotten...
But always carrying my remembrance
Of a Hope that never dies...
6. The Cold Grip of Terror
I carry a longing, a yearning stronger than words can tell..
I carry my sword, my emblem of victory,
in this chaos I flourish...
I believe. My dream is the loveliest dream.
Just the wish to have it fulfilled is enough.
I watched my step when I entered the narrow path..
I saw and I understood...
Its goal lies beyond the black fog, beyond the cold grip of terror.
To reach the goal I have to walk a long way,
have to tear my flesh on the sharpest thorns,
have to squeeze my staff so my hand gets cramped...
Through weird depths of bloody tranquility,
through darkness, pain and chaos..
through still, serene silence...
through the lashings of icy rains...
Suffering...Is it a challenge, a divine trumpet?
Day and night I lay there knocked to the ground.
Scars and wounds were my constant company...
The taste of cold blood woke me up from my restless sleep.
The heat of fire burnt my hands, stiff with cold,
when I tried to make them warm.
Sackcloth covers my body
And I've had to lower my horn in the dust.
My face is flaming red with tears,
and death has painted my eyelids shadowy black.
And this although my hands are free from violence
and my prayer is pure!
My days are gone, my plans are shattered,
gone what was once my heart's desire.
I wish to change night for day.
Daylight would be near now when darkness breaks in.
No, I know Thou will carry me,
Thy presence is greater than the darkest agony.
Thou, the only one. My fortress.
Thou alone are immortal...
Covered in glorious majesty
Thou alone are the Lord's anointed.
The darkness recedes, ‘cause the true light is already shining...
7. Illusion Was True Beauty
Agony lives in my soul
Passion haunts my mind
Peace and chaos fight in my heart
In my dreams there is always daylight
Black was the sky
Constant the flow of my tears
Black is the day
My yearning is invincible
Beauty surrounded me
Illusion was beauty made true
Beauty surrounds me
The dream is always there
I can hear the thunder of silence
I feel the cold in the middle of the flame
I see shadows of the invisible
I breathe where there is no air
I eat the bread that ran out yesterday
I am dumb but I cry Thy name
I regret the joy I have
I suffer from the happiness I wish for
I am a prisoner behind bars of freedom
I now sense the things that have never happened
Beauty surrounded me
Illusion was beauty made true
Beauty surrounds me
The hope remains forever
8. Contemplations Along the Way
I can see all there is to see
but I'm blind to my fate,
to what may come.
I think I'm awake
but stealing upon me
like the frost in the night
I neither see nor notice the moment when it comes
Light is what I look for.
I want to be conscious,
aware of what happens now
and what happened then.
You feel like a bewildered entomologist
who now and then encounters true and original experiences,
but many times discovers that it has all been false.
Who lays down the rules?
My knowledge points at the Self,
so it isn't strange at all that you think you know
and mistrust your experiences at the same time
when later you get it in perspective and are able to investigate.
But I must put the question:
Is this true?
To what degree are you and I affected by everything around?
To get a clear picture of yourself
you must of course have others
who can bandy back your ideas to you,
make contradictions and attack you from angles
you didn't know existed.
But I ask myself the question if there was none
with any other opinions than yours
would you say you could be awake then?
You wouldn't see the whole world
nor be aware of anything beside yourself,
but that would naturally seem the total reality.
This way of thought might veil over the truth
and make you blind.
You ask maybe where in the world you are and what you do,
but to discuss the question with yourself
might reveal which way you took and which you didn't choose.
Best of all would be to find the keys to the treasury of wisdom,
but would that make life better...?
All your experiences of life tell you
that each man wherever he is has his own worries to fight.
The keys to the treasury of wisdom
will never be found, because it would mean
you would become totally enlighted, lonely
and independent of everybody.
So what would then be the meaning of life?
When life is the one and only thing we own
and once again the questions asked
create more questions still.
Maybe all the answers will come
when we have left this earth and enter
what is there beoynd.
That will probably be experienced
as different as we are different from one another
and due to who and when it happens.
But the answer to the questions must be waiting for you there,
for if there are no answers
how is it possible that we should puzzle over them here?
9. Reflections Upon the Distress and Agony of Faith
If you respect yourself and worry about your soul you know you
must live a stricter and more retired life than even a virgin in a
maiden's bower. It is true that there are those who need to be
forced and tamedand who would tumble about like wild beasts in
lustful frenzy if they were left free. It is true and you can see it
now, quite close at your neighbour's house. But you have to show
that you are not one of that kind, by talking about it with anguish
and fear. And talk you must with awe about the holy things, the
great eternal truths, so that they won't be forgotten. If you can't
understand their horrors, nor can you see their greatness.
Now let's consider the distress and agony of the paradox of faith:
The tragic hero acts to gain fame and glory for himself. The knight
of faith gives up his individuality to become the common man,
become“Everyman”. It all depends on the will. If you think it's
easy enough to be a single man, sufficient to yourself, you can be
sure you are not a knight of faith.
Wild birds and wandering geniuses are not the true knights. These
know how blessed it is to belong to the common.
The true knight also knows how pleasant and wholesome it is to be
an individual who, so to speak, translates himself into a clean, neat
and flawless edition , readable to each and everyone. He knows that
it is refreshing to be understandable to everybody, as well as he
also understands the common truths, and both of them rejoice in
their shared confidence of the common. He rests assure that it's
pleasant to be born as a separate individual who is at home in the
common, the kind and lasting place on Earth, which will receive
him with open arms, when he finally wishes to rest there. But he
also knows that far beyond this there is a lonely, narrow and steep
path, winding its way through the wilderness. He knows what it
would be like to be born outside the common world and to have to
travel alone without meeting a single soul. He knows quite well
where he is and what his relation to other people is like.
From a human point of view he is insane and can't
communicate with anybody. To put it mildly: he is as mad as a
hatter. If he isn't regarded as such he is a hypocrite and the further
he travels along the way the worse hypocrisy.
The knights of faith know how engulfing it is to give themselves
up for the sake of the common. Courage is needed, but there is
also a feeling of confidence since it is for common man. He knows
what a glorious thing it is to be understood by every truthful noble
man, and by doing so be nobler in the mind himself. All this he
knows and feels as if committed to this faith. He would like to
think that this would be his mission of life...
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