Beneath the age-old citadel Restless black waters churn With waves of mad whispers From sources seldom spoken of Forever the enchanting waves Surge and curse all men Eager to swallow and devour Those who mortal dwell Seven out of seven times The unknown in the depths Shall embrace the drowning With death's cold bliss And seven out of seven times That man will become nothing He had not already willed In his deepest desires To enter the sunken temple The black onyx ziggurat As it manifested in vision From the womb of void The abyss shall gaze into you Within the subconscious Beyond the consecrated gate Of one's den of vices