ENOCHIAN CRESCENT - Babalon Patralx De Telocvovim

Pestilence And Honey

You bury your Dead too shallow
To get more flies, Pestilence and Honey

A kindred Spirit I control your destiny
What you smell is Fear As I cry to the Heavens

Truth isn't what it seems It's what the Fool believes
All the good one's are Dead And all Guilt is relative

For the sake of Veracity I thought I had lost it all
But these years proved otherwise So much more was taken

Dead eyes stare back at me His promises like Honey flow
Sweetness veils the rotting Flesh
And steaming Stench of thousands of Graves

What you sense is True Evil What you smell is True Fear
What you spread is a Miasma of Flies Pestilence and Honey

Every Headstone tells a Story Of Pestilence and Honey
(and of even more flies) So pale the Pleasure so pale the Pain
Because every Headstone tells a Story
All the good one's are Dead All the good one's are Dead

Vadzir Camliaz

The lunar current within the earth
It curls around the ashen, uninstructed mortals
Damn them, damn them who pity!
They shall be smitten and fed to celestial fire
Quoth the crowned and conquering one
The fiery joy, seated as a great lost god.

The eagle spake!

Fragrant steam sent up by offerings
As the night weaves her unpenetrable veil
The infinite aether of austere skies
To be airborne is to be lost to the earth
Evoken as an eagle yet swifter and deadlier
Accursed opponent twitching on the talons of eager violence

"The best blood is of the moon, monthly;
Then the fresh blood of a child or dropping
from the host of heaven; Then of enemies;
Then of the priest or the worshippers; Last of
some beast, no matter what."
Liber Al Vel Legis

Ol Sonf Vorsag Vadzir Camliax
Casarman Vpaahi Toh Vonph

Mortiferum Or Ptomaine Mal

I have gone far beyond the pale
The invincible sun eclipsed and bound
Languid with absinthe, a muse I sought
From Demonic apparitions as pleasant deliverers

They ride the moon In echelon
The struggling souls, Seeking the spirit

For arcane ointments eerie secretions
Extracted from your dearly departed
Overwhelming malady, peculiar apparitions
Quis est iste qui venit?

There was music...religious
In a dark place where wrong birds fly
Dark, ropy liquid, entrap the potential
Offer the blood! Offer the blood!

A dark current pulls
Cataclysmic forces enhance the view
I become the Dead and
Declare to the universe:

The wise one, star namer, decreeing the pattern
Apostate, Destroyer, dividing the poles, seed of rebellion
Warrior, Sun-king, providing the power, triumph of Sol
Nature transformed is the manifest goal

Yet, Reignes and Kingdomes
Crumble and fall Mortiferum, Mortiferum...