R for S

A non-synergic syncretism with Buring Season of Primordial


Bring the women and children before me
Bring the woe-men and their poison into me
Let us make rivers of their blood
Cut their livers in name of our own aloud
Bleed for me… I wish it so
Keeled for me… I lim them so
And Streams shall meet such rivers
Be Screams might heal such livers
Seaward they shall flow
As sore Lizard they might glow

See the shoreline scattered
Be their lands deserted
With their precious skull
And the calls of our skol
See the tide come in
Be the mine and see
As blood to meet their bones
As flood to feed their domes
A grotesque promise
A grotesque dummies
Beneath a crimson sky… A season birth
Behind treason lies… A reason birth…

We'll drown the newborn, like unwanted dogs
We'll grown like doomed-born, like shameless gods
And condemn them to their desperate gods
And command them like desolate dogs
We'll take a needle, to the arm of the world
We'll take them feeble, like stench of a filthy word
For it is our season
So this is our reason

We'll burn the temples, of the righteous
We'll bury the candles, of the virtuous
Rend them as ashes, to the four winds
Bend them to crashes, for their creeds
As ashes... to the four winds
As crashes… for their greeds
The winds of a new season
The seeds of a new reason


Addendum:
About Primordial, What I've got to say?! You know it's not about its Progressive manner, its apocalyptic lyrics…Primordial is original as its name implies; I don't know about Folk Metal as they've been dubbed, but there're some primeval elements in that music reminding us of radical-pre-naturalism-natural sphere – and I mean the paramount aspect of nature for sure: Forgotten inhumanstic humanity which can bring sombre and serene, both; The sedate Energy, itself, arising from some noble kernel of notable (but unnoticed) soul; a Celtic but Doomy one. It is prominent and impressive and regal; The Irish, but hey, they're not Dwarfist!

слушать

For Vasili