I call rage of the warrior
And my eternal, my dream
The soul of my soul, singular
And praise of my praises
Listen to you and mercy
Above Your Darkness
And moreover you overflow
Funeral Mischief
Your being in truth is pure
In your being, light
And your eternal pace
East and noble and proud
When I Dance the Devil
And devours its bait
It is often broken amicably
Lack of rhythm and pace
Sometimes both start
I am lost, blind, in him
But as you dance
I leave, I follow you
Because of you an epitome
I burn with your fires
You and I are a sum
One, not two
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