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My Master, the God of Darkness
The Angel of Death
The Black Lord
Before the Throne of Truth
Radosh! Radosh Radosh!
Stars and pillars and the frozen waste
The quartz mantle over the dead
Come, we will go to Him
With the wolves' faces
With the birds' wings
With the scaled skin
With thin voices
Smelling of musk and incense
Radosh! Radosh Radosh!
In a place where there is no death, nor life, only catacombs of sleep
They fork to lead unto the devil and the animal shadows reach out
Where the blood has dried, we thirst
Taxidermists remembrance of desire
Where the life snuffed early the riverbed full of yearning
Looking back to him
Thoughtlessly they move in the darkness
Remnants of men
Cocoons hanging in the night, ripe the horror
Shriveled memory from the past or is it from yesterday
Open your eyes and you fall where the Malignant Shadows await
Malignant Shadows await until the world may burn
We are the spirit without essence fulfilled with past
(Mucus from the yearnings forgotten and fever)
Between the angels of the world, between the colors
Shadows cast by the mauve sun