Blissful is the air in the promising sky, solid soil is warmed by indispensable fire.
Pure water glistens in the frozen distance, but the look behind the eyes reveals the atrocities.
Putrefied air keeps the flame in my lungs, mouths are full of dull mortal soil.
But on my hands remains nothing but worms, there is no hope in weary eyes, without her Opium!
Here I stand, by the empty grave, the look is lost in its depths, as my inner nemesis is getting stronger,
The grave is deeper and deeper! The feeling of cold stone floods over my body, Slowly bringing... satisfaction.
The pain is released, transcendence is near, as my being is recreated by the Deaths Opium.
In this hollow night I am looking for a life, looking for a life to sacrifice.
Oh, thy creature come, hear the call of ritual, blood and tears shall flow for her to come.

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