Thy Repentance - Moon Roots Of War

On high hills In fathomless cold streams Is he the thickening wood shades. His eyes are full of fevering embers, His body is woven of star's light, Like unfleshly fire Winding in voilent dance Primary dark flame — shaman. The floating in bloody flow To the voiceless heart's blow In kamlat — ripe moon. Attend to voluptuous ecstasy And shivering of the earth, Their fierce fucking coition. The magnificent altar will be shot By sprouts which were sown Source of dark wisdom Flame — shaman.