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Nox intrat cor meum sine lumine,

Et anima vincitur igne nigro,

Obscurum fiat verbum meum,

Fiat voluntas mortis eternae.

In the hollow of the mountain’s breath,

Where light has never dared to tread

In carne veritas

Circle drawn in ash and bone,

Tongues forgotten, chanted low.

Blood of the willing spills alone

The chalice drinks what gods forgo

Vox in tenebris

Frangite sigillum

The Chalice sleeps in black repose

A relic fed on whispered dread

Where non return

Calix aperitur

I carry the cup to end all breath.

Not to save, but to perfect death.

I smile beneath the mask of flesh.

I carry the cup to end all breath.

A sea of salt beneath my feet,

The stars above, but none aligned.

The Chalice sleeps where voices meet

Where none return, and none rewind.

The flame was cradled, not in light,

But darkness swaddled round the coal.

Dormite, o ossa regum,

Et surgite cum signo vermis.

Sepulchrum fiat templum,

Et vox mortua regnet (Atra mens mea!)

We kneel in soot, we drink despair,

We crown ourselves in smoke and grief.

No prayer ascends the withered air

Only hunger, sharp and brief.

Sharp and brief!

Reflections blink, though I do not.

The glass remembers every face

Those stolen, burned, erased, forgot.

It sings of things that leave no trace.

Nil manet aeternum