Fall Of The Idols At The Birth Of The Human Shadow
At the birth of the human shadow, in the séance of the
spirits of grief
A world made for Pithius and Belial for this wanderer
it offers no relief
I see myself in those stagnant figures standing on
fields which lie before me
In my miseries I understand the truth, to exist doesn't
mean the same as to be
At the rise of the human shadow, as demons creep beyond
the veil of life
Burning torn branches of Sephiroth darken my days into
endless night
Against the light as a shallowly hush I revive the
legends amongst the barrows
Caressing faint thoughts of deliverance
I reach towards the rapture of fading shadows
Abhorred will be my deeds, let the ritual commence
Aeons connecting, a plunge into worlds between
A moment, a cup of sacramental denunciation
Willing the arcane revelation as laughter prevails
beyond reason
At the fall of the human shadow, in flames and
billowing black smoke
From shards I create myself again and set my foot on a
hidden road
Conceived on the moment of Erebus in joy I bathe in my
newborn might
Without fear I journey ever forward where out of shadow
shines a light
Reborn to cast the light of Morning Star
