A gesture and slaves manipulate the strange mechanism
The basin quivers then bubbles
The intricate bodies twist and moan
The flesh liquefies slowly at the rate of howling
Exuding the basin to fix itself on the silvered surface

The eye of Nio'ogh Oron cries when he contemplates the process,
When he sees to conclude the quest started on the second eon

Step by step, he started learning the deleterious knowledge
Year after year, he imagined this sepulchral mirror
Corpse after corpse, he collected its raw material
In the wild hope to reach the wisdom

A whisper, a breath
The black tower screams

It's the scarlet dance
The Nio'ogh Oron's body comes to life with an erratic move

The herald of madness spreads out in a sky torn by sinister fissures
The mirror finally straightens up
The blood and the flesh crystallized on its surface
It rises over the ground to face its creator

The look of the man wallows in innards of the mirror without restraint
To collect an astounding picture there
A picture that the mind cannot embrace
An unbearable vestige of truth
The man's screams agrees to those of the tower when the chaos gets roughly in his brain

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