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Ascension of daylight

Eyes are bathed in their own fright

The weight of horror

Soon to end in splendour

The teeth of fear

Squeaking in the ears

A soul in front

Of its psychopomp

Surrounded by a crowd

Yet feeling so alone

Goat of Azazel

in a bottomless well

Deafening is the rant

Of the faceless hate

Time... for the blade

Time...for revenge

Now the blood is spread

Grotesque dances around the basket

Impulsive cycle of fertile godesses

Tainting their hands, their clothes and faces

Blood and its magic... Withheld in their spirits