Remove the borders and bounds,
Kneel before the blessed.
Become formless in deformities
And hold me, hold me now.
Curvature may have no end, the ma** shall act towards.
Will dew fall on the ground beneath the coldness stilling?
Directed at the blackness, a red path is rising.
Light ray of defenselessness can take me into relief.
Great ones, untouchable stellar pale face of the Moon,
Spiraling into itself on Anti-Cosmic ways of Doom.
I have watched the dew falling on the blackened ground of Void,
I have felt myself crawling on the lower side of the matter.