1100 Years Ago

'Oh my lord, let us fire up every church
Oh my lord, let us break every bell
Oh my lord, let us kill every priest'
(11th century saga, Hungary).

Witches burn the twelve holy disciples
Christian believers frozen in blood
On the darkest infernal day
On the dawn of eternal funeral
The holy trinity burns on the stake
Faith of our heart, the only sign is immortal.

As the Bliss is Burning
The night has fallen black
Whispering voices surrounding me
My being is the only eternal blaze
In the black mirror of shadows
I can't feel the pain
But struggle to a finish
I'm becoming.

I hold the blaze in my hand
It makes my eyes blind
And a distant voice calls me
In the drawing of the secret
I can't feel pain
I'm becoming.

I broke through the silent darkness
Beyond the treshold a sear bliss was
Waiting for me
It whirled me along, I feel
It draws me deeper
I can't feel pain
I'm becoming.