English
The dweller on the threshold at the bottom of a well. Dark light shining through them, dragged into oblivion. This body, a golden altar for the one burning star. Let its persistent hands grasp virtue's robemy virtuous robe. No love for this lie, its malevolent curse. Its war upon you has left you covered in blood. Now let its persistent hands grasp virtue's robe. I send these curses back to you.