The left hand path opens before me in the search for the elder spirit, the overwhelming opression of death, the silent screams in the wind at twilight... It’s the call of sorrow, it’s the preface, every single step leads to the grave, into the mighty trap of time. Wheeping of the dead, cries of the living. Scars. Stear deep into the eyes of the dead, mesmerizing silence...Invocations to the black goat, death arrives and so does he; eyes of fire, cloven hoof, shadow of the black goat, shape of the bloody horns, thunder in the forest...Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
