Ex Nihilo
When the night’s sorrow returns back to Essence in it’s whole
When the day narrows upon crevasses of your soul
Know that I have tread the wine press alone
Turned ashes to dust, and then crystal stone
When the night’s sorrow returns back to Essence in it’s whole
When the day narrows upon crevasses of your soul
Know that I have tread the wine press alone
Turned ashes to dust, and then crystal stone