The mist riseth slowlie
From fields where Bloode rained from the skies
The sunne mourneth the passing day
As if she knew it hath been the last

I am the Fog...
That Hideth what dwelleth beyonde...

The realm of the pure
Is washed away by the all-consuming fire
A fire so invincible and colde
Unlike the ones that shone these aeons

I am the Fire
That Burneth the angel's ground

Heavenlie Aeons Grimlie Torne Apart
The reigne of darkness and winter, the victorie of Griefe...

The harbringers of wrathe
Free the enslaved soules that wander as stars
Granting birth to the Blackest Black
That Blindeth thine eyes in Paine

I am the Black...
That Darkeneth Thy Kosmos Of Olde

Embrace the Darke
That Endeth the Aeon of no Sorrowe

Heavenlie Aeons Grimlie Torne Apart
The choir of an olde race echoeth in the darke...
Heavenlie Aeons Grimlie Torne Apart

I am the Void that Stealeth thy Life
I am the Dragon that tortureth thy Soule
I am the Elixir that the Wolf spewe forth
I am the Wrathe that Teareth thy heavens
That tore thy heavenlie aeons...

See also:
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