At the behest of night - In Mourning

At night we bathe in worry and unrest

Our fury kept by the silent wall

With cloven hoof and lightning tongue

The forbidden slithers here, in these halls

The rivers of night run through the gardens

Like ravaging horses cut from their shackles

Their presence feeds from temptation

The unclean has no blood on his hands

Pristine in fur and ivory horn

Are we lead onto his mighty blade

Or do we choose to bleed upon it

Can you hear it call

Surrender to the night

Lead by guilt and desire

Temptation will be your fall

Beneath the veil

Wallowing decadence

With solemn power

Spraying like blood on our faces

Cleansing our hearts from their burdens

A sense of desire will lead us astray

Your eye like a mirror

Devoid of untrue colors

Can you hear it call

Surrender to the night

Lead by guilt and desire

Temptation will be your fall