At the birth of the human shadow, in the séance of the spirits of grief A world made for Pithius and Belial for this wanderer it offers no relief I see myself in those stagnant figures standing on fields which lie before me In my miseries I understand the truth, to exist doesn't mean the same as to be At the rise of the human shadow, as demons creep beyond the veil of life Burning torn branches of Sephiroth darken my days into endless night Against the light as a shallowly hush I revive the legends amongst the barrows Caressing faint thoughts of deliverance I reach towards the rapture of fading shadows Abhorred will be my deeds, let the ritual commence Aeons connecting, a plunge into worlds between A moment, a cup of sacramental denunciation Willing the arcane revelation as laughter prevails beyond reason At the fall of the human shadow, in flames and billowing black smoke From shards I create myself again and set my foot on a hidden road Conceived on the moment of Erebus in joy I bathe in my newborn might Without fear I journey ever forward where out of shadow shines a light Reborn to cast the light of Morning Star