When the dark lord told me to live
I felt the raised lust of possession

Afterwards the death yell of an impaled nineye
Gotten through my dutiful ears

I had to think of all the lost creatures
Which strived of their existence
In the streaming of my black blood

Nocturnal shadows, which glorified
The resurrection like trumpets
Offered me the right way into hopelessness
Enlighten my path into inaccessible license

In coldness of my dark bowel
A yell after mercilessness
Bequeaths a trace of eternal destruction
To my decency

Uneven throbbing shadowfire
Streams with raised melancholy
Through twisted channels
Of my forbode grief

In the black storms
Of my mental agony
The deliverance ripens
In form of a godless dusk
The faceless ancient
grasps with stony miming
Into the cradle of mercy
And severs the blood stained flag

But still it seems to me
That the lightbringer
Spreads a shining shroud
Over the shadow being
Of an owl which died in chains

As the rock in me bursts asunder
The round dance of the colouring
Grows up in my twilight

Black hopelessness
Venoms the hidden unholiness
Of your withered virgin

Speechless remonstration
Grinds the arches
Of your risen dominion

Dark superstition
Drinks coagulated blood
Of your blasphemic lust

The age of the glorified god
Yields to a cold endlessness
Which, with vivid stiffness
Awaits my resignation

The second coming
The faceless lash
In the unholiness
Of my destination

The banished sorrow
Buried in aurora
Causes lifeless emotion
In the flame of my faded heart

If dead life immerses in dawn
And the shade of my schism
Is to be lost into brightened blackness
Death will be the only redemption

Welcome to the slaughter
Bleeding bodies lying on the floor
Destructed corpses on the ground
And death stands behind the doors

Bestial saviour of the undead legions arise
And the unholy resurrection of evil omen
Of the black priest, the seven satanic rituals

Lucifers vengeance is here
Sons of Satan born in a fire
And your fukcing death is clear

The slaughterhouse in evil hell
The christs are in never ending endless pain
In the land where Satan fell
And the evil demons rang the Sabbath bell.

The night grows pale
As with faint wing stroke
The cradle of decay
Emerges from the ruins of reason

The roaring silence
Sinks under the new trial
Which escapes with speechless ardor
Into decline

I tasted the morning dew
On a withered leaf
And forgot the acrimonious unrest
Which awoke during the moon-shine

Coz' only me is the frame and the blood
And i open your door into autumn

Desire's my saying
Final's my appearance
Care-worn's my glance
Apathetic's my devotion

Through yearning rises
Out of deep dark chasm
Up to deceased brightness
With the original power of life

A black feathered bird
Trips softly in the surge
A last sunbeam illuminates
In a bleeden darkness

Durch unglückselige Weiten
einer unbefleckten Sonnenferne
schreitet langsam Fußes
das letzte Sakrament, bereit,
die Tür zu öffnen,
welche das Vergessen
in seiner glorreichen Allwissenheit
meiner sterblichen Leere offenbart

Es ist nicht die Asche
welche auf mein Haupt regnet
es ist viel mehr
die gekreuzigte Verdammnis
welche der Wiederkehr
meiner filigranen Unrast entsagt

Hoch am dämmrigen Firmament
erklimmt meine Geduld
die Versagung meiner frühen Sühne

Denn ich bin das Geleit
der erhabene Schönheit
des Todes.