Texty:
Dødsengel Mirium Occultum

Your God is dead, your ideals are dying. From the aetherworld, I give unto you, a word to conquer the Aeon In the beginning was the word, and the word

A ruin of memories holds my earthly obsession. I seek for things beyond all understanding. I create an age where I am someone else. Chaining my pantheon

Within the matter of existence, i journey through sculpted memories. Neither dead nor dreaming, I slumber within the walls of water. In a world hidden