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