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