The Hidden Light - Darkestrah

Light is pouring from the eyes,

From the mouth,

From the tips of the fingers.

Light, crushing black light

From inside

Inmost and hidden.

Gleam of the first shamanic fire,

Lit by gods,

Lit by no mortal hand.

Gleam of the pre-eternal

Source of all life

In conjunction

With death.

Light, only seen by the few,

By the marked.

Chosen by spirits and fiends.

Light, strange to this world,

Not from here,

Untouched by the filth.

As the air’s getting thick,

The landscape dissolves

And luminaries turning

Pitch black,

Doors once shut get open,

Once lost is retrieved.

The hunter is back on his track.

Light is pouring from the eyes,

From the mouth,

From the tips of the fingers.

Light, crushing black light.

From inside

Inmost and hidden.

Gleam of the first shamanic fire,

Lit by gods,

Lit by no mortal hand.

Gleam of the pre-eternal

Source.

As the air’s getting thick,

The landscape dissolves

Luminaries turning

Pitch black,

Doors once shut get open,

Once lost is retrieved.

The hunter is back on his track.