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Kyy
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The Narrow Gates of Apôleia
All distant gem-stars grow dim
The celestia stage's clouded by smoke
Warp your mind and grasp the moment
Focus the instrument of despair
Dance on the smoke of the worlds
Dance on the smoke of the corpses
Dance on the smoke of the worlds
Dance on the smoke of the corpses
Dance on the smoke of the worlds
Dance on the smoke of the corpses
Helix of worms turns to the desert
Raining it's insides to ashen lands (of being)
You are a mirror for something, a vague ghost
After millenia you will grasp a glimpse...
I am nothing, there is nothing, the world is a lie!
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Of the theophany of Satan, cruel, true, a miracle
In this blink of an eye you will see
'I am nothing, there is nothing, the world is a lie!'
When you peer through the narrow gates
The narrow gates of Apôleia
I am nothing, there is nothing, the world is a lie!
Enthroned forever
Exhaling
Keen flame
The lord with tender eyes
The narrow gates of Apôleia
The gates of Truth
Opened to the coffin-worlds of being
Take this eye and bring it down where He sits
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