I Suffer The Astral Woe Testo

Soaring with eyes,

Where morning never comes

And the eternal black

Melts with infernal suns.

Creator of creators,
Rip me from this breathing shell

With the wisdom of origin

To wear your cosmic skin.

With me I am my own,

And in all I am within,

I travel the astral depths

On the winds of expansion.

I am of a race unbound

From this earthly grasp

I am the one who carries
The burden of endless sorrow.