A billion words ago
the sailors disappeared.
A story for the children
to rock them back to sleep.

A million burning books
like torches in our hands.
A fabric of ideals
to decorate our homes.

A thousand generations
the soil on which we walk.
A mountain of mistakes
for us to climb for pleasure.

A hundred clocks are ticking,
the line becomes a circle.
Spin the wheel of fortune
or learn to navigate.

A choir full of longing
will call our ships to port.
The countless lonely voices
like whispers in the dark...

A second of reflection can
take you to the moon.
The slightest hesitation can
bring you down in flames.

A single spark of passion
can change a man forever.
A moment in a lifetime
is all it takes to break him.

A fraction of a heartbeat
made us what we are.
A brother and a sister
for better or for worse.

A billion words ago
they sang a song of leaving.
An echo from the chorus
will call them back again.

A choir full of longing
will call our ships to port.
The countless lonely voices
like whispers in the dark...

Tonight we light the fires,
we call our ships to port.
Tonight we walk on water
and tomorrow we’ll be gone...

Everybody wants to live in a lie
but why should we delude ourselves?
It's not as if we can't see something's wrong,
where's the duty to what's right?
Intentions end with empty words
and chaos replaces order...

Those who shout loudest
impose their will,
upholding laws that serve a few.
Declaring peace while the sirens sing,
in the name of progress,
the name of madness.
Drum beats faster,
crowd chokes louder
and chaos replaces order...

I want justice for a voice that can't be heard!
Vindication for every suffering and hurt!
Let retribution hold dominion over earth
because Judgment Day's not coming...
Judgment Day's not coming...soon enough.

Αγάπης φως της γης ταξίδια,
μαύρα παράξενα παιχνίδια.
Στο φως του ήλιου θ' ακουμπήσω,
το καλοκαίρι να μυρίσω.

Μ' άσπρο πανί θα ταξιδέψω,
μικρό κορίτσι να σε κλέψω.
Όσο αγαπάω μένω πίσω
κι όλο μ' αφήνεις να σ' αφήσω...

Quote

"Τί είναι αγάπη?"
Απίστευτες απαντήσεις από μικρά παιδιά στο ερώτημα "Τί είναι αγάπη" (ποιος είναι ο μικρός και ποιος ο μεγάλος.....Τα παιδάκια μας βάζουν τα γυαλιά) :
Ρεβέκκα, 8 ετών
"Όταν κάποιος σε αγαπά, ο τρόπος που προφέρει το όνομά σου είναι διαφορετικός. Ξέρεις ότι το όνομά σου είναι ασφαλές στο στόμα του"
Βασίλης, 4 ετών
"Αγάπη είναι όταν ένα κορίτσι βάζει άρωμα κι ένα αγόρι άφτερ σέιβ και μετά βγαίνουν έξω μαζί και μυρίζουν ο ένας τον άλλον"
Κάρολος, 5 ετών
"Αγάπη είναι όταν βγαίνεις για φαγητό και δίνεις στον άλλο τις μισές τηγανιτές σου πατάτες χωρίς να του ζητάς να σου δώσει κι αυτός από τις δικές του"
Χριστίνα, 6 ετών
"Αγάπη είναι αυτό που σε κάνει να χαμογελάς όταν είσαι κουρασμένη"
Λευτέρης, 4 ετών
"Αγάπη είναι όταν η μαμά φτιάχνει καφέ για τον μπαμπά και πίνει πρώτα μια γουλιά εκείνη για να δει αν τον πέτυχε"
Δανιήλ, 7 ετών
"Αγάπη είναι όταν φιλιέσαι όλη την ώρα. Μετά βαριέσαι να φιλιέσαι αλλά θέλεις να είσαι συνέχεια μαζί με τον άλλον και να μιλάτε. Η μαμά μου και ο μπαμπάς μου έτσι κάνουν. Κι όταν φιλιούνται εμένα μου φαίνεται αηδία"
Αιμιλία, 8 ετών
"Αγάπη είναι όταν είσαι στο δωμάτιό σου τα Χριστούγεννα κι ανοίγεις τα δώρα. Αν σταματήσεις το άνοιγμα... θ' ακούσεις την αγάπη"
Πάνος, 7 ετών
"Αν θέλεις να μάθεις να αγαπάς καλύτερα, πρέπει να ξεκινήσεις από έναν... φίλο που δεν χωνεύεις"
Τζένη, 8 ετών
"Αγάπη είναι όταν λες σ' ένα αγόρι ότι σου αρέσει το πουκάμισό του, κι αυτός το φοράει μετά κάθε μέρα"
Θωμάς, 7 ετών
"Σε μία σχολική εκδήλωση και πριν παίξω πιάνο, μ' έπιασε φόβος πάνω στη σκηνή. Τότε κοίταξα κάτω και είδα τον μπαμπά μου να με χαιρετάει χαμογελώντας. Ήταν ο μόνος που το έκανε αυτό. Τότε μου πέρασε ο φόβος"
Μαρία, 8 ετών
"Η μαμά μου με αγαπάει πιο πολύ απ' όλους. Κανένας άλλος δεν έρχεται να με φιλήσει όταν πέφτω για ύπνο"
Κλαίρη, 6 ετών
"Η αγάπη είναι όταν η μαμά δίνει στον μπαμπά το καλύτερο κομμάτι από το φαγητό"

Νάσος, 27 ετών

"Αγάπη είναι να υπάρχεις μόνο για να δίνεις χαμόγελο στον άνθρωπο που αγαπάς, ακόμα και αν χρειαστεί να βρείς εσύ τον πόνο..."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; — vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Lenore —
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore —
            Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
"'Tis some visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door —
Some late visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door; —
            This it is and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you" — here I opened wide the door; ——
            Darkness there and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!" —
            Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore —
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—
            'Tis the wind and nothing more!"

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door —
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door —
            Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore —
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
            Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning — little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door —
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
            With such name as "Nevermore."

But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing farther then he uttered — not a feather then he fluttered —
Till I scarcely more than muttered "Other friends have flown before —
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before."
            Then the bird said "Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore —
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
            Of 'Never — nevermore'."

But the Raven still beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore —
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
            Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
            She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee — by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite — respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore;
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"
            Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! — prophet still, if bird or devil! —
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted —
On this home by Horror haunted — tell me truly, I implore —
Is there — is there balm in Gilead? — tell me — tell me, I implore!"
            Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! — prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us — by that God we both adore —
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore —
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
            Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting —
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! — quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
            Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
            Shall be lifted — nevermore!

TRISTANIA - MY LOST LENORE

 For thy promise bewailed
by her raveneyes
by her beauty and a scarlet sunrise
May thy river bury her silvertears
A fallen angel... enshrined in moonlit seas

Leaving vitality
so serene breeds my darkness
Entreating winterwinds
though I leave... I embrace thee

Winternight
conceal thy precious angellore
I secrete my soul
under thy wings of sorrow
Dark I embrace thy eyes
wander lost on life's narrow path
I reveal my heart
to this beauty dressed in dark

Grieving raveneyes
falls asleep with the sunrise
Delightful midsummer breeze
though I leave... I await thee

Grant me thy last midsummer breeze
May thou ascend from endless sleep
... my desire
Dance me above thy moonli seas
Glance yearningly into the deep
a cold and weary night

Widwinternight
Descending me like flakes of snow
I embrace the cold
for a life that morrows
Dark I embrace thy heart
Wanderer lost beyond veils of dawn
I conceal thy loss
enthralled in life yett still I mourn
My lost Lenore...