| Standing on the axis of two worlds
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| I raise the black pentagram high
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| Towards the northern darkness
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| Where thy horrid throne stands
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| Dark monument under the wing of night
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| Obscure forms slithering out
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| From its cavities and tunnels
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| Which all give way to thy shadow
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| I conjure thee with thy many names
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| Lord beyond the Mortiferic gates
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| Resurrect thyself from the pit
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| And grasp me with the hand of night
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| Touch each angle of this pentacle
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| And implant thy essence in them
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| It shall serve me as a blazing shield
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| From the sight of the profane ones
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| Empower the pentacle, thy robust image
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| And connect it with the earth where my feet stand
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| So that my spirit may be one with thee
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| Lord of the black earth, Belial! |