Glowing eyes, staring eyes
Manifest of evil presence
With entities swept in disease and decay
A fall from paradise beyond redemption

He who speaks of nightly treasures
He who wraps the serpent around my neck
He who pours poisonous wine in my chalice
He who lets me serve and slip away

...And so I will take shelter
In the absence of the light
Hiding like a masked miniature in the dark
A revenant* without relief it seems
For the art of becoming a progeny
And to be raised in such curse
Infesting the dead in herds

His grandeur of guidance in roundtrips obscure
He who immerse my hands in sullen thrills
His path on wich domination linger
He who dares to prove the sanity of mine

He who speaks of nightly tresures
He who lets me serve and slip away

Black unearthly void creatures crawling
Forbidden forgotten fairly underrated
Bastards in shape of angels holding my hands
Passing me wath is left of the wine

Behind The Curtains Of Night
Phantasmagoria
(Silenoz)

A mental inner vortex
As possessions through a wolf's eye
Envisioning the eclipse
No longer to be blinded by a sunrise

In this final benediction
Confronted by mirage of imminent mortality
Time's set to end the suffering
So follow, I will cherish the secrecies of hearts

Chased by the black shepherds
Behind curtains of night
Been found as a tool in their seduction
Fatal haze

An escape into abomination
Perished to phasma
Asindrome of another aeon
Soul-obsequial inhesion

Resurged in torrents of abysmal thoughts
Lost in a helix, blackest might
In stealth I do seek deliverance
In phantasmagoria, vortex utopia