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Hear me O crooked vessel,

It is I, thy most pestilent essence,

That possesses thy fragile flesh,

Cursing through thine innards,

Poisoning the blood, a pathogenous conception of evil.

Corrupting the soul, warping and contorting its branches,

Downwards....Onwards....Towards Hell.....

Hear me! O magus!

It is I, thy most inner spirit!

Long and arduous shall be thy path,

Isolated, detached from creation shall ye become,

Through deserted chasms, and haunted tombs shall ye roam,

Betwixt bloody storms and endless wars.

Cursed by a Desire to Know,

An alchemical trascendence, the Apokalypsis of Anti-logos.

To achieve the revelation, of Absolute truth.

The Metousiosis towards Divinity,

As ye enter the obsidian gates.

Of Total Death.