Come forth form your vestibule halls
Into the last rays of the setting Sun
Breathe Thy honor and favor in me
Through blooming pillars of Laurel leaves
To the night! I call thee, embrace my dying prayer
Unto your arms of moss and bones
Through The Devil's Garden a spine of thorns
I've longed for your blackened kiss...
Pollinate my lungs with burning Rose hips
Through trembling supplication upon my lips
Consume me in roots and amethyst
To the night! I call Thee, for every sun must set
The Devil's blossoms are yielding
Towards the first fire sparked in void
Source of sources, the seed of all beginnings
Behold a Heliotrope in Thy black salvation
Among Funerary Flowers and serpents coiled
My blood is fodder upon your hungry soils
Into Thy ground, my fall for Thee
I decompose in Ceremonial black earth
I am the oracle, blood of Adonis
Hollowed are these bleeding lungs
Strength and beauty stirred within these eldritch flowers laden upon your alter
Succulent chrisms, wines and tobacco
I turn my un-retreating gaze towards the liminal light
I've become the changeling
Roots, amethyst and the asps
The flesh redefined in the ever growing Morchella
Into the night! I call thee, for the Sun has died
I am yours, O sweet Demiurge
By you're blessings I shall inter your lifeless inner sanctum
Against the blindness of men I am your phantom
Lord and servant, shapes without form I summon to turn the The Devils Garden
To seek her nature by his fired lantern
Come forth form your vestibule halls
Into the last rays of the setting Sun
Breathe Thy honor and favor in me
Through blooming pillars of Laurel leaves