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When the sky weeps flame and planets are erased

Pestilence is borne upon the creeping mist:

Death a’ stalking in the woods…

From such visions stirred I wake, to find myself still in the grip

Of searing guilt for what I did:

Salvation is lost for me!

Hiss the winds;

“Exile thyself, go forth, seek death,

Flee from all of this!”

There’s a forest shrine

Where healing lies;

Believe!

You will be crowned the new king

And please the goddess of midnight,

By moonlight, with crimson offerings…

Sleepless, underneath the oak, the old priest

Craves oblivion:

For long years he served as a king,

He’s grown weary of his bleak reign

For he ruled alone and desolate, a Sphinx,

Keeping secrets deadly…

Descend, blind rage!

In darkness with cannibal drive

Stab the feeble life out of him!

Cut and thrust him through,

‘Ere he can scream for help!

“Come child, into our cursed embrace”,

Those voices in my head

That lulled my sins to sleep:

“The Goddess loves the culling hand

That thins the herd…”

Come, crown me as your king!

Come, crown me as your king!

Prostrate before me!