1. |
On Lacerated Hands
05:46
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On lacerated hands
I pull myself through
These cauterising coals.
Each blister formed is a
Memory burst by your piercing
cerulean eyes.
Destroyed with merciless intent.
Eradicate the past.
Yet it refuses to die.
Stare into the endless gaze of your eyes.
A sorrow unknown.
A hatred unbound.
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2. |
Eternal Fate
05:54
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Wretched man, decaying flesh.
Carcinoma devouring inside.
Human disease, all traces destroyed.
Clinging to ancient tomes, your future has died.
For I am the blood on your hands,
The guilt inside your soul
The price you pay
The one that leaves you
Rotting and bleeding in Hell.
This is your eternal fate.
The lies you have spread
Won't protect you from the
Worms and insects
Gnawing at your stinking,
Crumbling flesh.
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3. |
Pariah's Lament
02:36
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Instrumental
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4. |
Painseer I: Divination
07:46
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Show me the way.
Carve the future in these limbs.
Divination from crimson flows.
Groove these bones!
Snap the tendons!
So that I may see
And shape the ebbing waters of time.
Divination from crimson flows.
Visions of what will be.
I collapse: disfigured.
Deeper, darker red.
Vermillion.
I want these scars to show.
These wounds will never heal.
Tear apart my flesh.
I have failed.
We have failed.
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5. |
Painseer II:Lethean
05:50
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Every twitching nerve
Every pulsing vein.
A message becomes
Discernible with these tools.
The Dead know the lessons
The Living have yet to learn.
The whip of the decaying God
Will drag me to Lethean Waters.
The ferryman awaits.
I will be resigned
To a Fate I've
Yet to learn.
God of Passage be
My Guide.
To the Land of the Dead.
The Ferryman awaits.
My Funeral Awaits.
A quickening pulse.
An ominous portent.
A silent heart.
A storm ahead.
Blood, needles, bone, viscera.
Yield to me the secrets of Eternity.
Greatness at any cost.
I collapse: disfigured.
Deeper, darker red.
Vermillion.
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6. |
Worldwaker
10:01
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Upon these windswept moors,
I survey the lands below.
Heather and bracken weave a patchwork
Across gently rolling hills.
Here and there, weathered rocks,
Jut and push-through.
A fracture in the facade of these
Dreary, yet hopeful lands.
I raise my hands and cry to
Those Who Came Before.
Spirits of the Land,
Guide me to your ancient grove.
Sheltered from cursed, prying eyes,
Protected from those who would
Desecrate: Blasphemers!
I re-enshrine and dedicate.
Protector of the Forest
Herne! I invoke thee!
Raise a viridian canopy.
And interlace these roots
Within blackened, cauterised soil.
Writhen branches of ancient woodland
Tendrils run deep.
Yet leaves grow
Ever greener.
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Asherah England, UK
Atmospheric post-black-metal from Kent, UK.
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Asherahband@hotmail.co.uk
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