Sol is flaring from her tongue,
With hair the color of the sun.
Falling from the cliffs, hung high with snow,
Into the waters deep and far below.
The Venus risen up radiates in the east.
And how they delight to make the beast.
Intertwined yet sewn, Solace melds in the skin
Oh how Satan loves his sin.
Flickers
Flickers
L'oss Hall
Constance
The World That is Lost
Kronostory
Ascension of Indigtaion
Solipsistica Nihilisti
A Solitary Order
Feraland
The Dead do Not Revolt
The Trepan Of The Clock
Killkorps
Correcting the Human Model
The Indictment Of Birth
Patterns Of Force
Satan and the Sun
Nebuchadnezzar Division
Kalki's Army
The 36 faces of Adam Qadmon