Black Testament - Svartsyn

I walk against the south western

Pestilential wind in the desert

With scorching sand whirling upon my skin

I manifest through nightmares

Becoming a vision of the demon

I consecrate your scorpion tailed image

In this deathlike lamp where the cold winds

Cause death to cattle and crops devoured

By the wings of scorched sand

In the darkness the subconsciousness and

The consciousness communicate

I received a vision

To form in clay a mask

Of your demon face

To complete my black testament

A mask which speaks to the reflection and

Incarnates my soul

A mask…