(Blissmaster's Ball in the Hall of Twilight) opus 36, Bb-minor



And the visionary paints

black on black grey on grey

it's sad farewell and chronos won't wait

never to return to your dustbound shrine

all that you gathered buys you no time

spirit of unrest fear of the sublime

grave mystery of mortal's life

in the end will the spirit ever rise?



If freedom becomes your dungeon

reach deep within yourself

for the soul of hidden erotic

to set self recklessly free

for who's right and who's wrong

in a merry-go-round of passion

in the House of Truth and Lie

only fear of self annihilates the soul



Touch and like a torch I'll burn

cast upon your endlessness

lightning moment of rapture

my hour of passion and grace

joyfully I shall perish

in longing for your bliss



All those minor deaths I've died

All those times I've rested

weary upon your eternity

exhausted by your tenderness

flame of lust extinguished in the ocean of love



Here is the wisdom: life is coming and going

and becoming of the ones into one

symmetry of souls harmony under the sun