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Glowing eyes, staring eyes Manifest of evil presence With entities swept in disease and decay A fall from paradise beyond redemption Wrathchild' safterglow He who speaks of nightly treasures He who wraps the serpent around my neck He who pours poisonous wine in my chalice He who lets me serve and slip away ...and so I will take shelter in the absence of light Hiding like a masked miniature in the dark A revenant without relief it seems For the art of becoming a progeny and to be raised in such curse Is to forever creep among naive mortals Infesting the dead herdes His grandeur of guidance in roundtrips obscure He who immerse my hands in sullen thrills His paths on which damnation linger He who dares to prove the sanity of mine He who speaks of nightly treasures He who lets me serve and slip away Black unearthly void creature crawling Forbidden forgotten fairly underrated Bastards in the shape of angels holding my hands Passing me what is left of the wine
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