1. |
Hate Stone
04:40
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The stone is cold and wet.
The magic-men remove the gloves and
place their right hands on its surface,
their eyes closed as they chant the incantation in unison.
And then they each splash blood from their palms
onto the sacred pillar and the spell is cast
They have sealed their hate into the stone
and all of them drop to the ground about it, lifeless.
Every living thing that approaches the stone
will feel conflict and be driven to violence.
Plant will suffocate plant, beast will attack beast,
insect will devour insect
and man will kill man
near this sacred stone
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2. |
Festival of Serpents
12:27
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It was in the cold dungeon and surrounded by the holy
we were chained to the floor, damp to the bone,
breath pressed out by weights piled upon the chest.
We were hung from the stone, forced to drink, drowning.
We spat out our bile, cursed them.
With pure hate, we confessed.
We were placed in the line, a procession of ghouls,
towards the auto-da-fe.
A black sambenito, all serpent and flame.
My fate is the fire, bound to the stake.
The festival unfolds.
I can smell the flesh burning.
I can hear the shrieking and the crackle and the roar of the blaze
over the moaning and the glee of the crowd.
Those screaming men and women ablaze,
with necks that would not be throttled; heretics until the end.
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3. |
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We had left a life of merciless death for something we had glimpsed in dreams.
A place we could sleep unarmed and fear could be left to the past.
We drank away our memories. Fucked and kissed goodbye our scorn.
In secrecy and ritual we smashed our swords and buried our names.
But those whom we'd left behind needed only to see a face.
So they brought this steel upon us. So we let death into our hearts and slew our foes where they stood and left all their corpses in that place _____s more _____ftures, hate sheathed to the waist and death in our hearts where it has always belonged.
Amidst blood forever. I knew the sword was hatred and most fierce vengeance is all.
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4. |
Grave Cult Woe
08:14
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And so it was that, shivering and filthy among the pit,
belted by rain and b..... by wind the explosions are more austere
To drink of the sadness and hush down below.
The silence ............ gave the ..........
Of other places separated by breath .................blood.
The torches were lit, our faces revealed ............... the smoke of elders.
We lie with the ancestors and witness the grief, the world.
When the thorns have pierced our tongues and the blood has been ....
and the colour is red,
the abyss of death is coated anew.
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5. |
Lost In Fog
09:34
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Out among the bracken, the rocks and the dead fog has risen
Covered with mud and dew.
almost blinded by branches that stab through the cloak
This used to be a forest
Now it is damp ash, mould, death and bone
Lured here by voices carried on winds that batter
by howling and singing of drowning and final gasps,
The chattering of the dead mesmerises and urges me to fall;
to be trapped beneath the cloak.
Spoiled in the bog.
Breathing moss that fingers and joins one's blood
that will flow to this mass womb of lost, drifting, mad shadows.
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6. |
Scorn and Death
08:03
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March through the shade of the weeping boughs.
All lament, fist and blade and no shame.
This weapon is ready and a curse is at my lips.
To cut and howl at all of that creed whom cross my path
for the first and the final time.
As brave as they may, it is a surge into the maw.
I will summon the will of pure, bursting hatred
and be blind to the humanity of my snake-like foe.
My work will be so, so rough and when I am done,
when I hear no more man, strong or riddled with moans,
then I will fall to the ground, a husk,
completely spent and probably to my grave!
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