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From the One that beyond thought is seated |
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cascaded forth the drops of blood aflame |
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and this blinding rain of stars was greeted |
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with the abysmal depths of existence agape |
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The radiant sons of the blackest light |
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in the mirror image of Kosmos reside |
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with these tongues the serpents speak |
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with these lungs the serpents breathe |
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still adapting to the poisonous essence |
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to the strong walls of earthly presence |
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The obliteration of our growing decline |
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storms at the behest of Lucifer himself |
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to kindle awake the pyres divine |
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smouldering within these carnal cells |
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Thickening matter with its relentless hands |
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flagellated the high powers into dormancy |
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but though bolted fast by the flesh of man |
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in time they shall restore full vitality |
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A call is upon the gods we hear inside |
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from their aeon-long slumber to arise |
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with these eyes the serpents see |
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with these minds the serpents dream |
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slowly surpassing the strict boundaries |
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set by our narrow and weak abilities |
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The obliteration of our growing decline |
|
storms at the behest of Lucifer himself |
|
to kindle awake the pyres divine |
|
smouldering within these carnal cells |
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On the great day the drops are rejoining |
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the vast sea of fire will be all-destroying |
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The stellar substance and the soul of man |
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In world's warm ashes as one then stand |
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The obliteration of our growing decline |
|
storms at the behest of Lucifer himself |
|
to kindle awake the pyres divine |
|
smouldering within these carnal cells |