Bedight, this pre-aestival

Festival drew darkly near

And our delight at its festival

Was a roar to rival loosed Fenrir



Let the Hellish celebrations begin

Ragnarok is rolling, magma abrim

The blackest mass the Brocken has ever seen

Invoking Loki, smoking the red weed



We listen to the Glorification

Of Chernobog in a fog of elation

Denial is the vilest form of blasphemy



Standing on the cliffs that kiss burning winds

We are risen together 

Brazen, exalting, a hiss of triumph rings

I am yours

...Yours immortally



Tonight the rites are right for raising spirits on

The Devil's Pulpit, The Witches Altar

The dead will dance macabre

To Chaos Magick psalters



A heavy thunder shadowing lightning

Forged for Judgement Day

Announces greater wonder, citing

Heralds on the starry way



And I held you like St Vitus

As the Sabbat Incept to play

Before the fever swelled to bite us

And we were swept to waylay

May Day



Standing on the cliffs that kiss burning winds

We are rising together

Brazen, exalting, a hiss of triumph rings

I am yours

...Yours immortally



Only those tortured

Could profess such festive scenes

And melodies

Of raucous wrought debauchery



No arthritic, sullen Goya

For this fresh Walpurgis Eve

Our flesh it breathes

Full of fantastic symphnoies



Witness the fires reflected in infernal eyes

That blaze, alive

Eternal ties

Have trussed amazing lusts together



Procession, banquet, black mass, orgy



If our world were to cease right now

In the midst of this

Wide naked bliss, these started scared vows

I would break the universe in two

Just to side with you

To face the jealous heavens down



Excite the terse miscarriage

Of first light that thirsts to slay

This night versed with the marriage

Of you and I 

And all who dare to stray