"From the vaults and through the rites
To descend into the light"
A procession drags forth with the strength of six
Escorting a coffin down to its abyss
By evenfall, the sound that silence yields
An autumnal necrology faintly whispered by funereal draughts
Blessings, priests and prayers
Nothing more than just pleasantries for living
Beyond d**h we thrust, onwards...
...To the only lord, the pantheon face
Whose lust and grace only dead may portray
Rise... from the vestibules of nothingness
Rise... past where mortal eyes see only d**h
For when the blood and body sleep...
Dawns the hour of the true awakening
When the astral urge defeats the oaken embrace of the coffin
"From the vaults and through the rites
To descend into the light of which is unborn
Yet which shall be born again"
Rise to descend...
Through absence of time and space
Where darkness prevails - world without end
Rise to descend from the dominance of kings
The lies of your heart and the power of your limbs
Rites of descent... Rise, rise...
As your blood dreams
Oh, the luminance revealed by the blackest deep
"All I own, all my soul
To the only lord; my path winds below"