Mask’ is the first official release , 10 songs of power-gothic metal.

 

Standing in front of the mirror for quite a while, he felt as if he had been hypnotized before regaining his consciousness.

“How long have I been standing here?” The possibility of days having passed filled him with terror. He struggled to recall the last reflection of an ordinary object throughout his day…

During his afternoon ride through the inner city, he came upon a scarlet, velvet rose that had just blossomed, so he sought to smell it and caress its petals. He bowed towards the rose and before its exquisite essence had penetrated his senses, he was caught in loud uproar: “Behold this sad madman! Smelling the flowers! Touching them!” The crowd surrounded him in no time. They pointed at the miasma and derided him.

“If you abided by the law of this city, your face wouldn’t be tainted,” a noisemaker raved. He stared at them vaguely. A thought dominated his mind: the scent and the velvet feeling of the rose petal was worth more than sneering! Having no regrets, he was about to do it all over again. He really deplored his fellowmen, who, appalled by the ‘gang’ of the local lords, were sterile, avoiding touch, mere glances and emotion. They gabbled incessantly to conjure away the silence – hearts synchronize in silence, whispering secrets to each other.

Now he couldn’t remember how he ended up in front of his mirror, observing the marks on his face. Though he could find no reasonable explanation, any explanation at all, to what the meaning of those strange marks on his face was, he was positive that it was all about an odd coded language.

Riding for hours, no helmet on, he longed for the cool wind on his face. Perhaps for the last time. His mind worked in mysterious ways, making more intimidating U turns than those of his bike. There was no coming back for him. The moon had risen and the sun was setting when his bike stood still at the edge of a cliff. He got off. He gazed at the valley and the city lights, motionless. Everything seemed so small and trivial from high above! His inner conflict was so intense that he almost felt the ground constantly shaking. He suddenly sensed a stare on his back and turned his head to see a white glowing ethereal being with long dark hair standing nearby, locking eyes with him, calling him into her arms. Enchanted, he moved near her and knelt. She smiled yet she was weeping soundlessly.

She lowered her head out of shame. “I was waiting for you,” she said. “Am I late?” he asked. She said nothing, just touched the marks on his face with her fingertips, as if she touched ebony keys, an invisible score on his face.

He was the melody and she was the voice.

“Hide the light! Wear the mask! Time to go back to the shadows!”