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Oh, mighty Gatherers of all that scatters in vain

Oh, mighty Assailants on all the living and saintly dead

Thine is the Great Arckanum, Thine, the Spectres of the Night

Thine, the never-ending joy of sepulchres, bygones and slough

Instincts devious set this being ablaze

All through this sentient, unruly maze

Unburdened, unholy, revived

Freed, amidst lies afore contrived

Of forgone pasts it no longer speaks

Now barren sights, the Will Unknown, it seeks