Temple

Follow 0 fans

Wolf Kroeger

Wolf Kroeger is a German-Canadian production designer and art director, most noted as a three-time Genie Award winner for Best Art Direction/Production Design. He won the award at the 29th Canadian Film Awards in 1978 for In Praise of Older Women, at the 6th Genie Awards in 1985 for The Bay Boy, and at the 14th Genie Awards in 1993 for Shadow of the Wolf.He was also a nominee in the same category at the 1st Genie Awards in 1980 for It Rained All Night the Day I Left, and a British Academy Film Award nominee for Best Production Design at the 46th British Academy Film Awards in 1993 for The Last of the Mohicans. more »

5:19

1 View

Playlists:

#1

 Become A Better Singer In Only 30 Days, With Easy Video Lessons!

Deep green walls lined with Darjeeling Gold
And red carpets flow through dimly lit corridors
Like a river of blood, feeding an ancient forest
While its canopy dances to the fury of lightning

For there stands the stronghold of one man
Grown out of immaculate stone
A colossus tearing at his chains
His feet, never escaping the dirt from which he had spawn

The ruler of this lore had risen from the deepest pit
A hole that devoured even the purest ray of light
Down in this abyss, he forgot of the sun
Only hearing the faint aviary agitations of dawn
Echoing through impassive tunnels

He incessantly pounded the coal clothed rocks
As a sculptor chisels a block of marble in search of a forsaken goddess
His hands always smelt of burnt iron
And the glimmer in his eyes resembled
Two white isles in an ocean of darkness
Two white flames fueled by a vision
In which the prize sought would illuminate the crooked galleries of his own heart

One sacred night, his battered pickaxe struck the vein and bestowed glory onto him
Judging himself worthy of the light, he crawled out towards the moonglow
Nearing the opening, he passed his ghost staring back into the void
Just as he had done on the day of his arrival
A testament to the soul which had been consumed by these hellish bowels
A beacon which he did not grasp

He erected a shrine in honor of his achievement
To impress his prowess onto others and himself
But when the twilight winds embraced the castle walls
Their chant was gelid and hollow

Many a time the ochre colors of summer fields climbed into the trees
And now he sits awaiting death
In a temple which ineptly atones for the gash he dug into the bark of the earth

Cradled by the putrefied flesh of a deceitful Venus
He withers in memories of the true wilderness
Which had run strong in his chest
The one true love he lost
Eclipsed by the shadows of his pursuits
As he walked across a valley of primeval pillars
Supporting nothing but thin air

 Become A Better Singer In Only 30 Days, With Easy Video Lessons!