Unholy Athene Noctua
(Blissmaster's Ball in the Hall of Twilight) opus 36, Bb-minor And the visionary paints black on black grey on grey it's sad farewell and chronos won't wait never to return to your dustbound shrine all that you gathered buys you no time spirit of unrest fear of the sublime grave mystery of mortal's life in the end will the spirit ever rise? If freedom becomes your dungeon reach deep within yourself for the soul of hidden erotic to set self recklessly free for who's right and who's wrong in a merry-go-round of passion in the House of Truth and Lie only fear of self annihilates the soul Touch and like a torch I'll burn cast upon your endlessness lightning moment of rapture my hour of passion and grace joyfully I shall perish in longing for your bliss All those minor deaths I've died All those times I've rested weary upon your eternity exhausted by your tenderness flame of lust extinguished in the ocean of love Here is the wisdom: life is coming and going and becoming of the ones into one symmetry of souls harmony under the sun
