Glowing eyes,
  staring eyes
  Manifest of evil presence
  With entities swept in disease and decay
  A fall from paradise beyond redemption
  Wrathchild's afterglow
  
  He who speaks of nightly treasures
  He who wraps the serpent around my neck
  He who pours poisonous wine in my chalice
  He who lets me serve and slip away
  
  ...and so I will take shelter
  in the absence of light
  Hiding like a masked miniature in the dark
  A revenant without relief it seems
  For the art of becoming a progeny
  and to be raised in such curse
  Is to forever creep among naive mortals
  Infesting the dead herdes
  
  His grandeur of guidance in roundtrips obscure
  He who immerse my hands in sullen thrills
  His paths on which damnation linger
  He who dares to prove the sanity of mine
  
  He who speaks of nightly treasures
  He who lets me serve and slip away
  
  Black unearthly void creature crawling
  Forbidden forgotten fairly underrated
  Bastards in the shape of angels holding my hands
  Passing me what is left of the wine