Dawn Of RenaissanceSlowly transformingThe Historys
purposeThe dawn of Renaissance derivesIts ultimate
power to proceedThe souls are conditionedBy abstraction-agonyTo
examine theirWide-screen-birthThough trees still are
greenDon't leave unprotectedThe defects of delusionWhen
the black-white pictureIs maidenly descendingOver Southern
latitudePrepare to followYour own prophecyWhen the
Spectrum is fadingThe filter of re-entryBy deceiving
all purple-red eyesWill help you to findYour unrecognisable
look-alikesAmong the picturesOf the PastLet your dissonant
devotionBe heard all over the HemisphereIn delight
of the sweetest intoxicationTo the Mother XzoriathThey
reach their bursting odeThrough the Veil of IgnoranceYou catch the gaze