The Surreal Touch Between Steel & Flesh (Bishop Of Hexen)

Gowns of fiendish beauty-decaying, curved sharp nails Prince of evil's hags-hovering on thin air Circle the ancient-caulderon of summoning Mumbling the infinite dark hex "Goat-headed father, raven on left, wolf at your right Asmodeus & Zabulon"- Into our lungs we will inhale this night The battle-cry of men- The screams in the living woods It echoes in the valley- Yet the darkness remains mute The surreal touch between steel & flesh- Invoked, between them, a tragedy of odour & liquids A harmony conceived by drops of tears & blood The outcome of the spell It weaves a cloak of darkness Which will harvest the new leader The sweet whispers of betrayal The night is drenched in mist and in the smell of battlefield The ice cracks open from the dazzling smell of agony His tragedy-the fire will burn forever in his veins The wounds of flesh & soul will leave the-melancholic stains Crippled, yet alive-stay you to be the teacher of the arts "We condemn you to eternal enmity"! With heavy armour and two-handed swords The summoned fury of spelled-blinded hordes As if it is in slow motion-sky as earth Trembling under the hooves The outcome of the spell It weaves a cloak of darkness Which will harvest the new leader The sweet whispers of betrayal