Swung from the shadows on holy ground
a mace long forgotten by the pious
Of the dousing fumes of the ancient snake
lowing with unearthly rancour

I bear this sceptre of the underworld
to smite this realm with doom
and with eyes no one has ever seen
trudge the pass of glaring stone

I bear this sceptre of the underworld
to smite this realm with doom
and with eyes no one has ever seen
trudge the pass of glaring stone

Swung from the shadows on holy ground
a mace long forgotten by the pious
Of the dousing fumes of the ancient snake
lowing with unearthly rancour

I let the Demon speak through me
The forger of The mysterium

Beneath the terrene quotidian rites
the sea of Chaos and awful strife
gives eternal birth through the fivefold womb
to the astute sceptre that will be your tomb