Hymn To The Witching Nightsky - Grabak

Like a cloak of black velvet the night covers the land

Protecting the black welcomes the creatures banished by men

Deathlike silence crawls through the veins of the dark forest

Through the boughs of the trees the blackened nightsky gleems

The knowledge of existance of black magic

Let’s them groan expectant

Only some animals are feeling

The omens of the coming witching hour

Floating clouds in the sky give the fullmoonlight a mystic look

After a while two dragonwings are building

The cupola of this magic place

His breath hides the arrival like an opaque fog

Spellfilled the sulphuric air vibrates

A second later witches and warlocks

Are dancing in a circle of burning thoughts

Ancient trees are bordering the mephisto waltz

The devil’s eye beyond the forbidden scenery

Is watching over the children of the night

Ecstatic twitched bodies

Are wriggling under stars burning up

Again and again

The horns of propagation are fusing

With the witches wombs

Tonguelike flames are lickering

The hidden points of lust

Breathfountains of the exhausted

Are condensing in the icecold air

Of the witching nightsky

Without any notion

The mankind oversleeps this orgiastic

Celebration

The 12th hour is the term of the demonic procreation

By an eruption of sperm and blood

The eye is shut satisfied

In the 13th hour the new procreated are leaving the protecting shells

All stillborn find their way back into the diabolical throat

Being the essence of the master’s existance

By a sign of the sixfingered claw

The witchcraft has been stopped the air is mixed with the smell

Of sexual intercourse and silence

Unable to move

The crowd is waiting

Because a shadow

Is wandering through the rows

Lying on the face of a young witch

The shadow’s fingers caress her body

She feels them like a breeze

Between her virgin thighs

Her mouth starts moaning

Until she screams because of her lust

But she still doesn’t know

She is screaming her sentence of death

Her body is burning

Until a statue of ash

Is the last evidence of her former existance

By satan’s breath the icon breaks up

And a million pieces spread over the ground

Not before this the night discharges

Their children from the devil’s service

Until he calls to worship again