From the Ruins - Lantern

Hark!

The storms' aeon-old chant in countless tongues summoned…

Long… Have the vials lain dusting in thirst

The blood they crave must flow…

In this foul service in which to chant and kiss the goat

For tonight the moon shall be in place, the vials brimmed with crimson fluids

For tonight belongs to witches and incantations from the ruins

By the meadow, oldest stones give radiance

From a circle of black candles' gleam

And in the circle swells a sea of voices

Deathlike waves rising in consecration

…For the ones who roam endlessly

…For virgin blood to run free

The glimmer of a curved dagger in for a kill

Flashing at the virgin’s face — in her eyes, death

Hear… The liturgies now said

Sealed and sanctified with death

The chant becomes wilder, in heat they revel

Ecstasy and lust burning for a spell

The dagger raised skyward for a frenzied strike

The maiden fair and pure stabbed like lowly swine

Bleeding dry into vials

Disemboweled… A death devout…

And by dawn all marks lay gone

But the winds bear in mind their songs

In the gleam of fire that from the ruins stems forth

In the otherworldly colour of their songs

From the ruins blood has flown;

Their offal lay carried on

…In regions beyond life

Beyond death and mortal grasp

Beyond future and past

«From the ruins we call to thee!»