The way leading to him is
 unknown and steep
 And the bodies rests of those
 who didn't deserve him make it slippery
 But it is at the borders of my
 soul, so I know the secrets to
 walk along it staying unhurt

 The threshold of his abode is
 barred by a tangle of infected thorns
 But my soul keeps its key

 His throne is shielded by 12 servants' stare
 But he has called me, I felt him calling me
 And he has given me the power to bewitch them

 His rooms are icy
 But he warms my naked body with
 his breath

 The throb and the blood flow suspend
 In the presence of him

 His eyes, diabolical larvas his pupils, scan me
 His glance captures me and penetrates my breast

 Goblet of delicious vermilion wine
 I give myself up to his grim embrace

 Throb of death

 He is the storm
 He is the breeze
 He is the aurora
 He is the twilight
 He is the everlasting mind in
 the timeless abyss
 He injures and sates my lips
 He lessens my hunger
 He appeases my thirst
 He is fire burning my flesh
 He is icy snow settling in my womb

 Rod of viscid serpents
 Death and blood excite him
 And my blood is the balm for his
 ecstasy and his voracious delight

 Putrid carrion with burnt seales
 Obscure seducer with smooth
 scented skin of infant

 Now I know you
 But he has always known me