And so the sun goes down to drown over the hill of Homonoia,
And now comes deadly Achlys, with medley of haunting moans,
Groans from the underworld, yet with unfurled horrid beauty;
And I wait, most willing bait, all to satiate this goddess thirst,
Now cursed and worst for being born only to be torn asunder
For life-time of blunders: Ah! Now primordial divine who lived
Even before Chaos ~ eternal witch-queen ~ comes to glean
What now belongs to her with eerie songs and dæmon throngs.
My empty soul lies open to smile of contempt with no attempt,
No persistence of resistance; here lies but the shell of a man,
As the sun sets on the hill of harmony and melody, where enmity
Has arisen from deceit, manipulation, discrete lies and cries
Of degradation, severing me from all love from above and tears
Of Dyēus to defuse my misery and transfuse joy and love instead
In my bed of mourning: Ah! but Achlys comes without scorning,
Strangely enticing, inviting me into the hold of her nefarious fold.
Where now is Ma’at, Maftet, and sweet Sélená and angelic arena?
Have they left me alone, lonely, to be blown into the nether world?
With no chance for redemption, reparation, and reconciliation?
Am I to now bow to death, cow to Achlys, disavow my whole life?
Oh, but why not? I’ve only brought shame when I sought truth,
And laid claim to folly! Yet did I not love my children ~ yes ~
Even as pilgrim in this villain kingdom come, this demanding land
Of tortured sand? But now they are lost to the lie, and I die.
Come Achlys, over the hill of Homonoia, to take me to the Abyss;
Ready is this empty and forlorn soul, with nor more to mourn…
I hear death’s horn.