With the blade of Solipsis in my raised hand
With the song of Hybris on my bloodied lips
At the pearly gates - on my way to meet the Kind!
Beyond the edge
On the other side, me
In every drop of poison, in every trickle of saliva
There I am
Nada, the dread, nada
The dread, nada, the dread
Hail nothing full of nothing
nothing is with thee
Devouring splendor of the legions, treading on it
On the rubble of the Known, on the carcass of the Order
On winding roads and steep stairs
Carried by the wild, cold lust of the Doubt