There is no fear of death
Only the fright of life itself
The endless foreboding
To dwindle on the verge of madness

Sliding towards slopes tinted with the colour of night
Falling to the cadence of a dying man's foresight

The warden of stars, cold waxen's home, is set
Under the moon, the old wounding woe is there
Questioning the universe both in awe and in dread
Wondering about this world until shadow descends with death

Harmony is tamed disorder
Balance is the aftermath of chaos
Madness is the toll of turmoil
Death is the embodiment of entropy

In tenebris
Velum, oculīs opertīs
Caecus in aeternum

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