The way leading to him is   unknown and steep   And the bodies rests of those   who didn't deserve him make it slippery   But it is at the borders of my   soul, so I know the secrets to   walk along it staying unhurt      The threshold of his abode is   barred by a tangle of infected thorns   But my soul keeps its key      His throne is shielded by 12 servants' stare   But he has called me, I felt him calling me   And he has given me the power to bewitch them      His rooms are icy   But he warms my naked body with   his breath      The throb and the blood flow suspend   In the presence of him      His eyes, diabolical larvas his pupils, scan me   His glance captures me and penetrates my breast      Goblet of delicious vermilion wine   I give myself up to his grim embrace      Throb of death      He is the storm   He is the breeze   He is the aurora   He is the twilight   He is the everlasting mind in   the timeless abyss   He injures and sates my lips   He lessens my hunger   He appeases my thirst   He is fire burning my flesh   He is icy snow settling in my womb      Rod of viscid serpents   Death and blood excite him   And my blood is the balm for his   ecstasy and his voracious delight      Putrid carrion with burnt seales   Obscure seducer with smooth   scented skin of infant      Now I know you   But he has always known me