Temple of the Mist - Black Space Ritual

From the black spiral of dark matter
From the shining blaze of pulsars
From the howling beyond of blackspace
The tears of dying existence
The future in flames of 7 suns
7 deaths and 7 mirrors
In the crypts of UR
From the deserts of heaven storms
On the strings of reality
Comes the stench and shadow
The pure divine through touch of gods
The finger of decease
The cross of orion
The pyramides of redemption
The Flame was born
From the waters of Mars
In the mountains of glass
His knowledge is hidden
In the streams of silver blood

The old wise man is sitting on the throne of mud
Handling a dead rat and a book of moth
He is a priest from temple of Mirror
He is dancing on the broken glass
on the broken past and a broken future
He choose he wants he gives he takes
He holds rosary of razors
Flows with human tears and blood
Recalls a virgin without eyes
With open wounds on hands and hearts
And they cry! Cry with a thousand dying suns
with a despair of milions of neutrons
Magnetar, the bright dawn of revelation!

And now we dance in the black hole
On divine mass of mourners
We touch the lips of gods
and the eyes of angels
we cut our souls
in the name of the Seventh!
We cut our flesh
and eat our bones
Souls are free
The 23th constelation
Is a freedom collapse!