oh Mother of Wraiths
Queen of Vinsaule
cloaked in mystic white
gently gliding along
with the chiming of keys
revealing The Other Sun
and shepherding our souls
to the tranquility of nightfall
as you guide our renewal
leading us hand in hand
to the realm of the Veļi
the final land of the dead

the corpses in mud so incorrupt and alluring
as are relics of sinless saints from times past
I can no longer bear this eternal divinity
blessed and sanctified by the moldering devil
I have become a living incarnation of nefas
enthralled by the ecstasy of my own perdition
I soundlessly hex into the dark sunless fog  
along with the songs of the sinners as prayer
a quiet hymn to the cursed wretched souls
inaudible whispers begin to surround me

the subtle sun of silent dawn
crawling in through every crevice
in the crumbling stonework
and the fissured stained glass
of the dilapidated crypt

its murky interior gelid
housing forsaken old relics
of forgotten young orphans
enveloped by blankets of dust
and deteriorated cobwebs

entropic amalgamations
of decaying ****** souls
in this wretched sepulcher
of gloom and of light
so profoundly serene

yesternight’s pale dream
of a lamented maiden
skin frigid to the touch

her putrefied necrosis
veiled by serene opaque
so white it blinds my eyes

her face of porcelain awakens
and stares deep into me
she sees my plight and anguish

and so begins a song angelic
her lips against my ear

we both fall into lament
and weepingly decay