IN THE NAME OF SATAN, you obtain everything from here and now. Just the same as that time, the view from here
bewilders your impoverished mind. Through the hourglass plainly clocking, you see the same scenes where everything
turned into ashes. Those words are still standing strong: words that you threw out of your memory are still staying
strong and show those miserable scenes to the passing people and souls. You, without mind yet flowing rootless,
amongst the waves frozen and blackened, are the Master of Loss. This chalice for that love, that hatred, those
promises and those lies. Everything is torn into pieces and buried under your own gravestone. It means nothing to
remain here. It values nothing to keep what you can see from here. The black blood carves the ruin, the black blood
flowing out of your mouth, onto the red carpet that symbolized your past luxuriousness. You just lost where to stay.
You, without mind yet flowing rootless, you, without mind yet flowing rootless, amongst the waves frozen and
blackened, are the Master of Loss. Ils Micaolz Olpirt Ialprg. O thou mighty light and burning flame. Ils Micaolz
Olpirt Ialprg. Burn them all down to ashes. You've got nothing to lose. In the name of Satan, you obtain everything
from here and now. Frozen dream. Unforetold truth. Destiny never showed its real face to you, as long as you were
following the symbol of success that you imagined from your own shallow experiences. The chains of suppression are
what you produced on your own. There exists something that you can meet only by facing the emptiness. Your
existence being suppressed with rage and despair. Results come by following the providence, and knock you down
into despair, as long as you try to reach hope, hope based on fatal errors. Kill yourself on your own. Kill yourself on
your own. What your own death means is the death of your god. Your cries of the past suffering are gradually being
lost. You, without mind yet flowing rootless among the waves cursed and blackened, are the Master of Loss.
