Even though the solemn path I follow lies deeply concealed within worldly clouds, and even though my eyes can not see what dwells beyond the theatre of undivine I believe in Thee, O’ mother of abhorrent light For I perceive beyond perception
As my colden human body shivered I screamed in vain, cursing as I staggered For the echoes of the world stroked into my soul like scars of a thousand daggers
Into the garden of withering I walked where shades of old still do haunt Dancing into the night among trees of dead a place forgotten, so mournful and gaunt
Where shades of old still do haunt, a place forgotten, so mournful and gaunt
O’ Mother Aletheia, I do follow the distant and sacred voice of thine, through the unworldly halls I do flow deep into the end of myself
Into the garden of withering I walked where shades of old still do haunt Dancing in the night among trees of dead a place forgotten, so mournful and gaunt
Thy mysteries, O’ holy mother of Lucifer are the greatest enigma of all And as all I see and love is Thee now the earthly shackles fall
Even though the solemn path I follow lies deeply concealed within worldly clouds, and even though my eyes could not see what dwelled beyond the theatre of undivine I believe in Thee, O’ mother of veracity’s light For I dream beyond dreams…