The way leading to him is

unknown and steep

And the bodies rests of those

who didn't deserve him make it slippery

But it is at the borders of my

soul, so I know the secrets to

walk along it staying unhurt



The threshold of his abode is

barred by a tangle of infected thorns

But my soul keeps its key



His throne is shielded by 12 servants' stare

But he has called me, I felt him calling me

And he has given me the power to bewitch them



His rooms are icy

But he warms my naked body with

his breath



The throb and the blood flow suspend

In the presence of him



His eyes, diabolical larvas his pupils, scan me

His glance captures me and penetrates my breast



Goblet of delicious vermilion wine

I give myself up to his grim embrace



Throb of death



He is the storm

He is the breeze

He is the aurora

He is the twilight

He is the everlasting mind in

the timeless abyss

He injures and sates my lips

He lessens my hunger

He appeases my thirst

He is fire burning my flesh

He is icy snow settling in my womb



Rod of viscid serpents

Death and blood excite him

And my blood is the balm for his

ecstasy and his voracious delight



Putrid carrion with burnt seales

Obscure seducer with smooth

scented skin of infant



Now I know you

But he has always known me