Drowning in the nectar of the flame bound by the black goddess to a obscure hymen I leave my wishes...those haggard tales... wich a shelter me from the gesture of the darkness wich I have forgotten ...but any beauty distress withering the empty pictures of the life and blind me with the rotten blood of a dying cross. The seminal branches of evil embrace my dreams as a monument of all those nocturnal weeping in thy name I drink the Black blood calling the fall... At the darkest moon thou summoning all my desires to twist the blind lamb's aged fruit I desire thee...as autumn tears bewail the thy hellis decree for years thy sorrow I have mourned and kissed the black bleed of thy pale crown embelished with the sins of blasphemy ...but what is the gist?...the yield of a tearful eve, ...ingrowing wounds in meadows of light... but thou are the night where I have lost perfume of fullmoon nights and thou shall worship my woe within my forlornness.