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EXORDIUM MORS - As Legends Fade and Gods Die


Obal


1. I SAW OBLIVION

I saw…Oblivion!


Anguished shrieks of torment ring out against thee
Immemorial, upon the eroding winds of time
Inexorably struggle against this self-fulfilling prophecy
Relentlessly pursued by the weaving sisters of grief
With thirsty bloodlust, I rage against destiny
Spit repudiation into the mouths of circumstance (cursed inevitability)
Strangled by my own mortal coil, I foresee
Even the gods must face their own mortality

And with dead eyes, I saw oblivion…

An arcane horror dawns upon the twilight of my humanity
A primordial and paradoxical truth which guides our blades
I will not be beholden to such an asinine fallacy
Declare martial law on time’s institutionalised contract
I cannot abide and live in this infantile fantasy
Demand these apportioners of divine will’s heads
Freewill is a conception made by man’s self-willed destiny
And I shalt not be bound to this preordained finality

And with dead eyes, I saw oblivion…

My breath turns hoarse…
My throat is raw…
Entropy, I come to worship at your altar
So that I may finally see
I cut out my eyes…
My soul it still yearns…

Entropy….I beg of thee receive this supplication
Let this not be a foregone conclusion
Atropos….Let man’s freewill guide his own destiny
Let thou choose thine own longevity
Entropy….Upon death’s horizon I have seen
With dead eyes, in revelation I believe

Entropy’s loyal servant for eternity…
Gouged my eyes out in a visceral offering…
Blind, I wade through life’s waters stygian…
Down on my knees, I beg for oblivion!

Prepare for oblivion….


I saw oblivion
But it was not of my own design
Atropos’ ghastly shears
Cut thy string so that I may be free!

I saw oblivion
But it was not of my own design
Free of their strings
Fated to my own self-willed destiny

Once blind, fated to witness this obscene absurdity
Free from their schemes, no longer bound to their will
Upon death’s horizon I have seen a life of inferiority
The reckoning of my soul hath liberated me from their path
Shackled to providence’s endless wheel of misery
In stygian waves, this self-fulfilling prophecy begins anew (cursed inevitability)
As we guide our blades inward, so that we may see
The burning truth radiates upon my own fatality

And with dead eyes, I saw oblivion…

With dead eyes, I now see life’s cruel totality
My accomplishments for naught, lost in the sands of time
Deceived into thinking man makes his own destiny
I embrace this revelation without respite
The reconciliation of the Moirai’s paradoxical duality
Entropy our master, as we fade into obscurity
While locked in this prison of my own self-fulfilling prophecy
I forever remain bound to ephemerality

And in transcendence, I am oblivion…

I saw oblivion!
I am oblivion!



2. A PYRRHIC SACRAMENT

A clash of fur
Tooth and nail
Mass upon mass
Rats trapped in a barrel
Eat of thy flesh
Consume, excrete
Gnaw thy bones
Devourer of putrid rodent meat
Starved of light
Covet liberty
Crave freedom
Enslaved to this mephitic society
I am the beast
In supremacy
The mutant rat
An odious autonomy

The truth is we are all meat to an idiot god
(Detritivore theocracy)
With dead flesh in our teeth, we hunt ourselves
(Cannibal communion)
Contaminated and corrupted, we feast amongst the corpses
(Perverted Eucharist)
In order to exist and to survive, betray and consume thy humanity
(A pyrrhic sacrament)

Wild and free
Rabid and hungry
Death stalking
Only flesh of thy brethren satiates thee
Gore upon our lips
Blood soliloquy
Animal upon animal
A reprehensible camaraderie

There’s no justice in the world
And there is nothing truly good
Filth betraying filth
This is the world that we deserve

No amount of poisons, traps or floods in the world could exterminate or eradicate thee
As opportunistic vectors of disease, in a polluted and toxic environment, we breed
The world belongs to the scum, the filth, and gloriously it shall forever be
Our existence as excrement, for our sired young to inherit, reproduce and feed

As scum upon scum rises to the top of the compost heap, with no mortal repercussions
With ecclesiastical fervour, we celebrate and reward these heroes of moral destitution
Barrel upon barrel is filled, in a befouled, beleaguered and irrelevant mass production
These esteemed feculence swell with pride at their own auto-cannibalistic devolution

Parasitic creatures
To survive
In toxic shock
Devour loved ones alive
Enthroned
Scum inheritance
Devoid of virtues
In a detritus governance
Flesh on flesh
Pyrrhic victory
Suffering
Cannibalistic theocracy
No heroes
Only hopelessness
No divinity
This world belongs to the detritus



3. FLESH OF THE HEATHEN

Fuck your gods!
Crush your gods!

In magnificent splendour
By providence, I extol this blasphemous vitriol

Fuck your gods!
Crush your gods!

Serpent-tongued philosophers
Speak in subterfuge
Mars’ blade I must be
Ashen and barren their souls laid bare
I will not conform to their mediocrity
Mars’ blade I must be

To the pyre, I cast their words
In abhorrence, I transcend the common herd
Emaciated, fed their pious platitudes
Acrimonious spirit upon crucifixion wounds

Branded with the flesh of the Heathen….

The flesh of the Heathen!

I am the iconoclast
The apostasy, the heresy
An apex predator
No clemency, only cruelty

Fuck your gods!
Crush your gods!

In magnificent splendour
By providence, I extol this blasphemous vitriol

Fuck your gods!
Crush your gods!

Victim mentalities
Progression stifled, suppressed
Mars’ blade I must be
The zenith of civilisation
Built on the bedrock of the repressed
Mars’ blade I must be

I am the dissident
The insurgency that shall shatter their empyreal
I am the subversive
A treacherous soul with sedition in his heart
I am the insurrection
The irreverent terror upon the puritanical
I am the schism
The enduring infidel defiant forevermore

Lycanthropy give form to this blessed son of sin
I can no longer withstand this destitution
My dignity in chains, my disposition now grey
I’ll slit my own throat before I beg for absolution

Stigmatised, demoralised, traumatised
Stretched upon their racks of animosity
Their sectarian fictions, I retch in astringency
An intransigent will against their false sovereignty

Deus vult omnes homines hereticos fieri

Deified, apotheosised, immortalised
Baptised in the waters of your bigotry
Emanates a soul forged in righteous heresy
Obstinately, drown in thy holy apostasy

Mars’ blade I must be!
Your deposition to the charnel house!

My fists as lightning
Beat upon the earth
Depose your masters
Celestial afterbirth

Despondent no more
Your downfall, your conceit
Duplicity an ossuary
A shrine of your defeat

The heretical soul
In apostasy unfurled
The flesh of the Heathen
Standing aloof on top of the world

In magnificent splendour
I desecrate upon thee the flesh of the Heathen



4. SURROUNDED BY SERPENTS (I AM...)

My spirit roils and seethes in endless contempt
Trespasser, perpetrator, transgressor
A beguiling artifice encrusted in Epicurean desire
Detractor, villifier, disparager
Surrounded by serpents (I Am!)
Surrounded by serpents

Rising! Rising!
In your condemnation, my spirit hath arose
Preaching! Preaching!
In evangelical pride, the fabrication you spoke
Beseeching! Beseeching!
My conviction, a burning effigy in your name

(I Am!) Aristarch! I have become what you were to me
(I Am!) Chastised! Castigated for a sacrifice I did not repent
(I Am!) A truth! Collapsed into a clenched fist
(I Am!) Venom! I shall become thy holy serpents’ poison

(Which resides within your heart)

A zealot’s wreckage conspicuously swathed as virtue signalling
Perjurer, equivocator, pretender
Surrounded by serpents (I Am!)
Surrounded by serpents

Hatred! Hatred!
Through your revulsion, I have overcome
Sacred! Sacred!
Flagellated upon thine self-serving cross
Fated! Fated!

For a justified proclamation, I am damned
Drowning in your serpents’ grasp I may be
Wrongfully punished for I would not prostrate
Would not yield or submit at your temple of conceit
Now taste the vengeful steel of my conviction

Send thy holy serpents’, for I am their venom
Which shall reside within your heart for all time
Slowly corroding your insides, as your vicious lies
Collapse around you as a clenched fist prevails

I Am!
The hypoxia as your brain’s starved of air
I Am!
The poison which constricts your heart
I Am!
The necrosis that eats at your flesh
I Am!
The festering tumour in your bones
I Am!
The darkness that extinguishes the light in your eyes
I Am!
The oblivion that awaits
I Am!



5. CROWN OF DUST

Heavy sits the crown…

Witness this bountiful empire of sand
It fills my heart with despair and regret

Heavy sits the crown….

All that I have willed
Has left me betrayed
My life’s work
Buried and decayed
Tremble in fear
Upon these ruins
Despair o’mighty
Gaze upon this blessed decay

Reminiscent, my body shakes
In fits of disconsolation
Recalling past endeavours
Condemned to heart-torn abdication
Once, I strode in licentious glee
Upon the crushed bones of lesser men
Trampled into dust by my decree
From the swamps and mud, an empire was born
Glorious and mighty beyond measure
Temples erected in my honour
A profane and triumphant transgressor
Cunningly, unbeknownst to me
This entire time I was being deceived
With every passing victory
Drew me closer and closer
To harrowing, abysmal defeat

Heavy sits the crown….

Who could have known that the dynasty I birthed
Was destined for the graves?
A legacy of spectres, children of the crypt
These worn eyes no longer grasp this horrific masquerade
My lands once fertile and ripe
Now only muck and sludge remains
Fruit that was once a sweet delight
Crumbles to bitter ash upon my tongue
A kingdom forged in brazen iron
Is now rust and corrosion
The temples and palaces where I was worshipped
Consumed by sand and erosion
Deceptively, unbeknownst to me
I was not the true King of all Kings
My arms embrace the morose reality
We are all slaves to a quietus destiny

All that I have created, is now interred into the grave
Annihilated by time, ravaged and conquered as slaves
My kingdom, my empire swept away like castles made of sand
Destined to perish, in ruin, they cannot be saved

With wrinkled lip and cold command
This shattered visage bids you welcome
To this empire of sand

“To the victor goes the spoils” as I was once told
Misled, conquered and undone, let the truth unfold
We are nothing but grains of sand, in the hourglass
Concede defeat, Master Time conquers all, lo and behold!

Even the most powerful of men are powerless to the machinations
Of time!

A dynasty of corpses to witness this ascension
As sovereign ruler of phantoms upon a dominion of dust
To rule from this throne of dirt, a macabre succession
The dawning revelation that bursts in my head
I wear this crown of dust, for a kingdom of the dead
A crown made of ash for the monarch of the dead



6. TORN ASUNDER (DAMNATIO AD BESTIAS)

An unfettered tongue spits dejection
Upon the guise of modern man
We, the unbent, unbroken stand

A proud nation ridden with disease
Malignant tumours overgrown like weeds
If we are to die, then let us not rest in peace
Invasive, the pathogens of infirmity overwrought
As maggots feasting on a bloated pig, left to rot

Our homes, our lands, our fields
Poisoned by filth, we cannot yield
Forsaken, cast out, but not yet defeated
A failed state to be made obsoleted
Intolerance fought with tolerance
Words falsely used as weapons
Ignorance touted in arrogance
Blind, deaf and dumb to common sense

Enslaved by their deceitful code of morality
Spiritually corrupted, we gaze upon our own futility
Sensitivity supplanting rationality, a wretched mentality
We must return to tooth for tooth and claw for claw
Blood for blood, iron and might that is the law

A slave ship drowning in their virulent moor
Torn asunder on their rocks of deceit
Let thou tongues be silenced no more
Let slip the wolves of war

O’ warriors where are thou now?
What has befallen you that has led you to thus?
Wandering, nameless pariahs we have become
To give in to this desolation, we must not succumb
Wolves neutered and tamed
Beasts of burden rather than the wild
A violent caricature of political correctness made insane
Where what rules is the vacuous, pathetic and inane

Denizens of despair
Throw off your yokes
Be not cloaked in their veils of misery
Arm yourselves with lex talionis
Rend for fucking rend
Aye! Tooth for tooth
Tear apart these venomous rodents
Tear it all asunder
Let beast overcome man again

Bestiarii as tidal waves
Upon their seas of fragility
Let their flesh stick in our teeth
As a caustic flood of violence erupts

Blood for fucking blood
Yes! Claw for claw
Let us be the hot iron
Which cauterises this wound upon humanity

Damnatio ad bestias!
Torn asunder!

The weak and the cowardly held in contempt and scorn
Insects crushed beneath heel are nothing to be mourned
Let their blood be the fertiliser to which a new age spawns
Torn asunder their flesh, their ethos and their ways
Lex talionis, the law we take to our graves



7. THE TRIUMPHATOR

Now he stands
Forged in the fires of tribulation
Burdened with uncertainty
The Triumphator awaits oblivion

No man is born equal
And no man is born free

Memento mori…

A slave indentured to a system of hierarchical antipathy
The man against time, born of unyielding anachronism
A nation in coma, blissfully distracted in their apathy
He can no longer slumber in their asinine mysticism

Memento mori….

Creeps into his soul and sets his mortal fibre dismally aghast
Deception sold as hollow truths to the somnambulant paupers
He cruelly shatters their mercurial illusions as broken glass
Burdened with this cold truth, his bones on fire as he rejects the augurs

A proselytization like fire, reckoned through his soul
Cleansed of impurities, the Triumphator invictus
His iron-cast will bends fate’s capricious nature
His fortitude, a sceptre upon incredulous mythos
The infirm are but stepping stones upon his ascension
The bones of those he conquered are his hard-won throne
Through eternal struggle and bloody condemnation
He is faced with the inevitable, and thus remembers…

No man is born equal
And no man is born free

Memento mori…

The filth buried in his soul’s recesses whisper their bitter truths
The scar tissue upon his psyche fragment and bleed profusely
Upon the sight of the plebeian masses squandering their youth
No man is born equal or free, lessons etched in blood for eternity

The Triumphator stands above all
Harnesses fate’s will to conquer the self
Their arrogance their downfall
With indignant pride, they squander their lives
Deaf to oblivion’s harsh call
No man has the right to live
Forcibly made to crawl
The Triumphator stands above all

Triumphator….

Now he stands….

Over all that he is conquered, over all his achievements
He is but a slave to the whisper trawled from the depths of his spirit
Indentured to the burden of life’s imperative aggrievement
Memento mori – the cold fire that will either bury or set thee ablaze

Vir triumphalis upon a graveyard of victories and triumphs
As all his accomplishments and all memory of his existence will fade
Like others, his flesh and his bones succumbs to the eroding sands
Time, the great thief makes mockery of man’s achievements
As legends distort, and once vital truths become hollow
This relentless wheel of entropic progression grinds on
Until all light is extinguished from every star, in every galaxy
In every part of the universe collapses and fucking dies

Here his achievements stand
Upon a weathered tombstone
Forgotten in time
As legends fade and gods die

As legends fade and gods die



Texty | EXORDIUM MORS - As Legends Fade and Gods Die | Hard Music Base

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