(Blissmaster's Ball in the Hall of Twilight) opus 36, Bb-minor    And the visionary paints  black on black grey on grey  it's sad farewell and chronos won't wait  never to return to your dustbound shrine  all that you gathered buys you no time  spirit of unrest fear of the sublime  grave mystery of mortal's life  in the end will the spirit ever rise?    If freedom becomes your dungeon  reach deep within yourself  for the soul of hidden erotic  to set self recklessly free  for who's right and who's wrong  in a merry-go-round of passion  in the House of Truth and Lie  only fear of self annihilates the soul    Touch and like a torch I'll burn  cast upon your endlessness  lightning moment of rapture  my hour of passion and grace  joyfully I shall perish  in longing for your bliss    All those minor deaths I've died  All those times I've rested  weary upon your eternity  exhausted by your tenderness  flame of lust extinguished in the ocean of love    Here is the wisdom: life is coming and going  and becoming of the ones into one  symmetry of souls harmony under the sun