In coldness of my dark bowel A yell after mercilessness Bequeaths a trace of eternal destruction To my decency Uneven throbbing shadowfire Streams with raised melancholy Through twisted channels Of my forbode grief In the black storms Of my mental agony The deliverance ripens In form of a godless dusk The faceless ancient Grasps with stony miming Into the cradle of mercy And severs the blood stained flag But still it seems to me That the lightbringer Spreads a shining shroud Over the shadow being Of an owl which died in chains In chains As the rock in me bursts asunder The round dance of the colouring Grows up in my twilight