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