Immortal are the sagacious and yet they die daily
I write the secret of my soul into the vaults of eternity
The ecstasy which it brings forth accomplishes its own end
Perfect in silence... a becoming!
Through harmony of opposites, without diffidence and interference
In accordance with my will, the beginning of immortality
Perfect in silence...without limits and all empty, there is a becoming!
Merge into the great fire that consumes dust to ashes
Fearful indeed is death, since all men fear it
But the abyss of questionings, shoreless and bottomless, is worse
Doubt bringeth folly whereof the end is madness
Death maketh man a king; and this kingliness groweth unto godhood
Perfect in silence... a becoming! perfect in silence...
Without limits and all empty, there is a becoming!
Emeth - The Doer Alone Learneth Lyrics
Emeth - The Doer Alone Learneth Lyrics
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Immortal are the sagacious and yet they die daily
I write the secret of my soul into the vaults of eternity
The ecstasy which it brings forth accomplishes its own end
Perfect in silence... a becoming!
Through harmony of opposites, without diffidence and interference
In accordance with my will, the beginning of immortality
Perfect in silence...without limits and all empty, there is a becoming!
Merge into the great fire that consumes dust to ashes
Fearful indeed is death, since all men fear it
But the abyss of questionings, shoreless and bottomless, is worse
Doubt bringeth folly whereof the end is madness
Death maketh man a king; and this kingliness groweth unto godhood
Perfect in silence... a becoming! perfect in silence...
Without limits and all empty, there is a becoming!
I write the secret of my soul into the vaults of eternity
The ecstasy which it brings forth accomplishes its own end
Perfect in silence... a becoming!
Through harmony of opposites, without diffidence and interference
In accordance with my will, the beginning of immortality
Perfect in silence...without limits and all empty, there is a becoming!
Merge into the great fire that consumes dust to ashes
Fearful indeed is death, since all men fear it
But the abyss of questionings, shoreless and bottomless, is worse
Doubt bringeth folly whereof the end is madness
Death maketh man a king; and this kingliness groweth unto godhood
Perfect in silence... a becoming! perfect in silence...
Without limits and all empty, there is a becoming!