Between the sunset's bloodstained veil,
thy horned prospect reflects on me.
The he-goat above - the she-goat below
cried through beads of mirrored tears
it fills the air ! - it fills the air !
an atmosphere that hath no key.
I'm disguised by the kindle of nite and i can fill your liquid, glass heart
grasp your cold-shaded breath and whisper the sign of the hidded stone
i'm in the circle and i am the shell that granted you the horns of all-begetter
a fixed, startless vision and a sullen fabrication cursed the sun
of which our lustful ways are performed.
Half of me is all of her
hath no shower; hath no sol
half of me is all of her
hath no shower; hath no sol
half of me is all of her
hath no shower; hath no sol
Akhera-goiti
akhera-beiti
fantasies i realized
dance of thorns, i thrive
for below the great abyss is a virtue contained in itself.
"we shall eagerly expect one black opalith for tomorrow."