In a labyrinth made of bones and flesh,
I contemplate the immense aberration of sulfur.

A door opens to a sacred dimension .
The demons of despair enter through the pole star.
Tortured to death, I try enduring the ache.
A ziggurat of filth appears and pours out its hatred.
Horror advances and devours everything.

I leave my life to escape this hell,
and cut my veins to achieve salvation in death.

Far away, I hear whispers, cries, and a distress signal.
A black well in the sands call the tortured.

I fall into a terrifying precipice of madness.
The insidious call of murder and despair.
At the bottom, a creature speaks:

"I am a liberation for your soul.
I need you, feed my hunger and fulfill my dark desires.
No child will survive, this generation will rot to the entrails of earth.
By your hand I will take possession of humankind."

The evil shadows keep calling, and my reason fails.
Nobody can help me, it is an incurable disease.
I am the medium of unspeakable powers.
And yet I hope, though hope weakens me.
While I'm left waiting...

J'aborde un nouveau chemin.
Celui qui m'écrasera par sa sournoiserie.

Un voie sans issue.
Des morceaux d'opales égarés, une fin douloureuse.
La douce amertume de l'avarice.
Je m'enfonce peu à peu.
De ma lame, une vérité s'abat.
Du sang s'écoule, la vie me quitte.

Ô Sithrâ,
La couleur de la mort Thritônh!
Je l'affronte, je la dévore.
Plus aucun malheur, sinon le néant.

D'une tour élancée, l'ombre prodigieuse s'avance.
Les etoiles parmi les édifices d'une sombre citadelle.

Seintille et danse, dont la funèbre course reflète l'echo lointain d'un souvenir effacé.
Pourtant dans ma chair réside un signe, l'affliction du maudit.
Je me désagrège sous les coups sinueux et sournois de l'accablement.
Mais lorsqu'une source de lumière aveugle l'eclat écarlate du Tharsidium,
une forme de sang et d'opale traverse la voie des fous.

D'une fine main les affres du temps se dissipent sous la contrainte du jour nouveau et brillant.

Frozen in the past, a shadow remains hidden from the eyes of the unspeakable.
Monochrod rains fill the ravines of this cursed life.

I walk through abandoned corridors, carried by amorphous currents,
while regrets overwhelm my soul.
Pale faces watch my steps and drain all my energy.
Far away I see a darkness, and reflections of sadness.
And I seek the fire of regeneration.
He who by his agony consumes all life calls for help,
burning in the dark, alone in a cage.

By grace his flesh will become invisible,
and my soul will be condemned...

Obscured by ashes, a being of light shows me the purity of a world built on dead flesh.
When the Levrahique triangle emanates from his malice, I will dream of a plague of blood.

A sanguinary luminescence transmutes my body into the ruins of an undying citadel.
Below a red sun, beyond the copper tower, disharmonic echoes resonate through unfathomable creatures.
From a circular cavity on the face, they whisper: "We are the material of which dreams are made".
Separated from my psychic body, I enter the 9th angle of Nahäsh.
And at the end he pronounces the secret word.

The demon waits for me, and the lethargic transition begins...

Out of a dimension that no layman can perceive,
etheric rays pass through the invisible oracular wall.
A superior globe communicates its thoughts.
Lights appear in a cursed angle, the opening of interstellar doors.
As predicted by the Red Order, the 4th dimensional chain is completed.

.:: Prayala ::.
Mind opens, and the etheric astral matter is finally accessible.
When the eye of divination widens the psychic field of the practitioner,
the truth of the ancient and future pleeladian people will show the way.

My secret name is Namhera, a name of blasphemy for men.
Imbued with incestuous and ignominious malice.
Sadistic obsessions defying morality, an affront to reason.

I break the original codes,
I taste the forbidden seed of the black demon.
Join this sabbath, this orgy of perversity.
Mutilate your flesh to death, stimulate the blood thirst.
Be guilty of extreme practices and atrocities.
My life has no more a meaning, I can not redeem my flesh.

I hope for an exit, but the time of dissolution has come.
And the spell of Ephereàs has buried my grave.

From the rubble, a suffering being surfaces.
His joints groan, his complexion is decrepit.

From his cage and refuge He looks at distant planets and dimensions.
Fingers frozen, limbs torn apart, a whispered sentence crosses time.
In an act of despair, the evil one gathers an army of demons.
Terrorized by the coming of the upper spheres, He wails in pain:

"Au fond des abimes je descends enterrer ma tombe putride,
au son d'une mélopée avide d'espoir, les morts marcheront"

Beyond the filth, I wait and watch.
The long coat of white drunkenness destroys all worries.

Never again will I see the light of day.
An eternity of waiting in a cold and dull space.
The trees are rotting, and my blood has cooled.
The sweet caress of death awaits me.
No signs of life all around, just emptiness.
The opprobrium has always gripped my existence.
My soul refuses to be comforted while I fly over the Sheol.
I scream, but no one answers me in the winds of despair.

Oh Sithra, dissolve this reality of gloom and suffering!
I committed an irreversible act of atrocity,
and now I leave in anguish this world of misery.