Let the Priests of the Raven of dawn, no longer in
deadly black,
with hoarse note curse the sons of joy. Nor his
accepted brethren
whom, tyrant, he calls free; lay the bound or build
the roof. Nor pale
religious letchery call that virginity, that wiches
but acts not!
For every thing that lives is Holy
Obsession
Autumn Leaves
Illusion
Autumn Leaves
Resurrection Mary
Whithin The Dark Domain
The Undertaker And The Crow
Illusion
Black Mirror
Reason And Sense
The Lost Grace
The Curse Of Headless Christ
When The Wolves Cry
Beyond the Forest
Altar For The Black Mass
Apart
My Lullaby
A Macabre Banquet
The Jester's Shadow
Forever In Death