A voice afar is Withered numb
By the carriage of the Father's Seed
For this corridor has led us Blind once more,
Into this night of Paranormal Desire

The whisper holds still the Embrace
Fortold by the woman in Agony bathed
But for whom has this Cruse been laid?
As the call of his Master is the Call of the Blade

Atop the Mountain of Conquered Flesh
I wait in Rapture of another's Pain
Within this carnival of Tragedy a strange
My face is merged with the colours of Grim

Alas, the Call of Balance awakens me
From The seething Destruction of tattered Dreams
My Eyes once more protecting Me,
From what they call Reality