Perishing Nights (A Nocturnal Gathering)

As the wolves howl And the moon penetrates the driving clouds When the trees cradle above a murmerous cascade Your stature approaches closer and closer An Osculum Infame Your scent is still present In this place so dark, so pure At a bed of leaves I still see your shadow In the sinister shade of a horned moon Ishtar, my witch, my burning Goddess Every woman bears your mark in her soul As the rustle of leaves and the rustle of flames Inflame your transistory (yet eternal) existence I embrace your light It shines through the leaves of trees so old As the beckoning of bells in the freezing night Makes us forget about the cold As the wolves howl And the moon penetrates the driving clouds When the trees cradle above a murmerous cascade Your stature disappears slowly and grave An Osculum Infame