Long have I suffered within the boundless desert of Solitude Long have I tread upon this crocked path. Trough Shadow and Flame Flame and Shadow. Tribulation upon tribulation. Guided by the serpent beneath my feet and the Black head of Gnosis. To the burial place of our Father whom we doth name Azael, the Shackled One. He who lies imprisoned within the depths of the Cauldron of God, his chains Doth bind us all. Ye, ineffable black diamond that can not be seen nor held but with the eyes And with the maw of the Draconian seion. My blood has whispered the lost names of your sons and daughters. Those fierce broods of my ancestry begotten trough the wombs of whoredom And Angelic desire. Whose smitten flesh released black daemons upon the haunts of the Earth I speak now their names, scribe now their forms and call forth from the lineage of the Blood of the Tiller. Wielder of Flame. May he immolate the clay that swathes my soul And illuminates the fathoms below the pillars of heaven around which the coils of our Lord doth twine Let the sands now shift and the desert awake as the unutterable Name is scorched upon my tongue Arise in me Black Winged Angel. Let the prism that binds your celestial light be now shattered Lord of the Earth and the Forge. Oh, Midnight Sun. Come Forth