I walk against the south western
Pestilential wind in the desert
With scorching sand whirling upon my skin
I manifest through nightmares
Becoming a vision of the demon
I consecrate your scorpion tailed image
In this d**hlike lamp where the cold winds
Cause d**h to cattle and crops devoured
By the wings of scorched sand
In the darkness the subconsciousness and
The consciousness communicate
I received a vision
To form in clay a mask
Of your demon face
To complete my black testament
A mask which speaks to the reflection and
Incarnates my soul
A mask...