O, they are always there  Waiting, knowing they'll become O, for as long as I'm here  I can not escape - I don't even try to  Staring at me from inside  and smiling with me at the gaze around  As they are the hell of my soul  they also give me will of strife for any kind of goal  They are the whores of my mind, mirrorshades, reflections of the dark of Assiah  Filthy, yet tempting - I must summon them again  so that they can spawn the daemons that I seek  O, they are always there  Waiting, knowing they'll become O, for as long as I'm here  I can not escape - I don't even try to  Taste the fear, numb in anguish  Go high with the nightmare, so close to die  With eleven broken bowls I fill up the well,   as I invite the succubus to feed upon my soul For a moment I'm drained -   a kliffothic shell, I've payed visit to hell  Like Ishtar in the realm of Ereshkigal  I will rise out of death as the sun of tomorrow  Taste the fear, numb in anguish  Go high with the nightmare, so close to die  I am the god of my work,  the work that depicts its maker  In the anguish of creating  I learn to know every face of Ge-hinnom