The void Is kept sacred, so our shadows might stay.
Creative forces of nature weave night into day.
Where spirits live as one, with a vast, starless sea,
to protect a living darkness, so our light might be freed.

Here in my silence, I’m an artist of the truth.
I'm a willing exile from the clamor of my youth.
I embrace a duality, where sin can't be wrong.
In a utopia of purpose, where light might belong.

Pleroma’s cold depths hold the darkness, so deep.
Where atrophy’s sonnet calms the sun into sleep.
I’m an artist of the lost, finding kinship with the night.
In the solace of nothingness, I carve out my light.

This dualistic journey is a path, rarely seen.
Where blackness is comfort. Where silence can scream.
From a deity within bringing strength when I'm alone.
In the dead of the night, force my light to be shown.

Darkness, it lives to let divinity possess.
In the quiet of the void, lifts my soul from my flesh.
Inspiring my spirit, with a message supreme.
"Oh, artist of the dark, Force your light to be seen."

I kneel to no man, but kneel nightly to The Moon.
I defy the dead light. I defy the living tomb.
Born from the grave, Mother Gaia bore the womb.
I consume death itself, as men die to consume.

© Derek 'Abraxas Rebxrn'