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Pure and immaculate, the souls emanate

From the eighth sphere

The one of the fixed stars which move around the Orb,

Relentless and in unison: never they deviate

Slowly they descend towards the earth

To be united with matter

Once they reach the soil, they live the painful life of men

Chattels of an inner tyrant

But if they forget their celestial origin, and submit themselves to flesh

Everlastingly, they will stay fastened to their corporeal tomb

And seized by sin, like a slave in chains

Thousands of times, they will be reborn in their earthly prison

Mistreated by the violence of their cravings

And condemned to live without salvation

Hardly better than living corpses, they will crawl in scorching mud

Eaten by their own Demons

Until they fall in the abyss of Kthôn

Where a sleepless death awaits them

But if they succeed in staying straight and full of scorn

Towards their spiritual weakness

If they conquer lust’s disorders

They will return from whence they came

And thus, they will dwell ad perpetuum by the side of the Blissful

In the steams of the Empyrean Heaven