Deep within the womb of time,
a creature thus be born.
The seed of life is united with the
egg of tyranny, gestates forth
from within the womb for
three-quarter and nigh a year.
The creature thus be born!
The creature thus be formed!
And ye of years...
[number of years + bells] will chime!
When the heavens open up
and drink from the silver cup!
The creature thus be born!
And blow the magic horn!
To alert the spirit deep within the
cycle of life.
The creature has begun it's
journey deep forlorn, upon this
day which he be formed.
In the sea of mucus the spirit
rides down from the mountain
and unites with the creature in
the womb.
A holy union, dark mortality
until the dark mortality breaks
the chain of life.
The creature thus be born!
And every year raineth down the
celebratory tears.
A celebration of the years from
mere mortal sky!