Far down below the flowered isle's, hidden in the Assyrian Sea,
Lost in thoughts of your blood consuming me,
In my crimson throne I think of what once was
In these luminous waves, I hear the voice of your death
Pale whispers through the cold moon
Up the walls of Babylon echoing in a dark gloom
Faint voices in the air below the evening star
Syrian prayers chanting "Atargatis come and save me"
But who will be my savior from this agony
Who will take away the pain I caused to thee
Enthralling love, my Caystus;
I am cursed far more than just with your seed
Damned beyond the gaze of your fern green eyes
Left to rule in drowning shades of cyan tides
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