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1.
No Longer Ineffable 04:29
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And I want nothing The void of remedial depths cries a torrid vacancy Lurid the tripe of cavernous pictures, gild the failure To never relinquish this unabashed anger My view forevermore construed Taken by the acridity of myth and lore, my name is Satan, I am Satan Incommeasurable to Christ, what unit of measurement quantifies such disparity in quality To mourn not, well moorish through abandonment the avenues of kinship Concerted with evil and focus, this gash so long rife, to what neighbour, in no direction, every light is dim Alone, for so is as Satan For such is the jilt Surreal the world of norm, hallucinatory the content of distorted actuality A consequence of agonizing rejection so well founded, immaculately placed and eternal in its strength To ire A contempt to God, through reason redirected, retrofitted to oneself None will bellow in my tears, no love will wallow in my forgotten name And such is eternity A present evermore, calamity frozen in fruition, loss so great in its permanency of feeling, trite is expression Revisiting not, reliving is the despondent's contract, to none nullify A contempt to God, through reason redirected, retrofitted to oneself None will bellow in my tears, no love will wallow in my forgotten name And such is eternity A present evermore, calamity frozen in fruition, loss so great in its permanency of feeling, trite is expression Revisiting not, reliving is the despondent's contract, to none nullify
2.
Ardent 03:14
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Hearing the deluded voice, veering to the enigmatic call, a joining of apparitions, as winter's returning There is no such thing, a sentiment too covert and unconvincing I'm returning, not to the mystery of which I've never been, but to a place from which I came Attempts nulled, an averted avoidance, a shadow near as my body is left In the void's suspension, a coldness of grime, no consternation, alone but not in feeling, a superceding of the proverbial mores and penchants I am everything yet in nothing A beckon of inclination I feel the hope of the oppressed I see the beauty of evil intention In woke sweat, I will to exit from my bed I feel great thirst, but water isn't the implement of quenching Exhaustion takes me I find myself again within the void A sense of malevolence eclipses the cold and all enigma I hear in sonorous cadence, 'the call is that of the Satan' I am lulled, stupefied, caught in an unequivocal allure For the adversary beckons, and man listens I now know that what I had construed wasn't evil I now know the encompassing feeling of a pain that is of the immortal I have met the effect of God's betrayal, a rejection eternal, an anguish of stolen remedial I have felt the lament of the devil
3.
The Trident of Blasphemy 03:35
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Let the bog swallow deep in its consumption of me Permit the shriek of accompanying wraiths, that of a hopeless vie, to remind me of losses' eternity A dread so visceral, an anxiety overwhelming is left one in the same, confounded by whether it is of me, or rather the perdition surrounding Leave vivid the memory of abhorrent abandonment, deserting family and those amiable, forever burning the reminder of my infinite callous insensitivity For, beyond natural law, of this suffering, I am most sincerely deserving, endurance never merited, the guilt is blatantly laden within myself I chose the path far less travelled, an intonation of earth ubiquitously despised, my preference was the collateral infliction of self-contempt, my celebrated prowess was the absent difficulty in miring, those who loved without doubt and without test I am utterly putrid, an abomination of accentuated ire, to this Hell forever For one reason or another, I hear the voice of a woman in the primacy of her own agony I have no penchant to save her Riddle me in her devoid meaning, cripple me in a search for no answers, there is no method of beseeching, a prospect of nothing in the shared hereafter Torture beckons every narrowest corner of misery, there is no infant-like wallow, for there is never a remedy A barren consequence, a mockery of Heaven, for the flames emit a light There is no salvation in the glow For it is not 'as above so below' The temptations of mortal renown, specifying the supportive nature of an active nexus, absent the Christ crown, irredeemable, inescapable and unfathomable A scarring permanent evermore in this present, for time is an invariant dimension, subject not to the turning of a ticking hand, faithless reciprocity, for my deeds were of my own works, an insignificant selfish toil Yet, I revel the vast greatness of devils' kingdom.
4.
Prospect 03:16
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Residing in the gallows of Man's rejection, I have come to know the mark of rot, my sole possession, to sequential ire, a regression to child-like needing and none to bother I witness myself descending in bottomless despair, on the outside, burdened through attention to movement, foisted into looking in, coaxed into deepened emptiness, love replaced with visceral animosity, none are for me For torment and seethe are what have been bequeathed, through this desolate dwelling Within my hands a greatening weight, a moorish path, a contempt to proliferation as well as broad encompassing expression For all will fall, I do not rest and am incessantly unwell A solemn end to all who have been explicit in my abandonment, all who have partook of this giving of such a putrid endowment This genocidal act will not fall relinquished, as is 'one in the same', absence is to be the witness, a promise fulfilled in as detritus a way as all that has inflicted me, for you will feel all my anguish, all love will rapaciously perish In the ash, through life's cinders, I will foster anew, a birth of my chosen fruition A disease produced of avowed sickness, a regaling through the madman's mind thought seer, a place meant for such a myth as Satan, as real as his adversary's destruction, the collapse of all the beauty of ethereal heaven Bear this well in vision, shear the image of ubiquitous annihilation to the lids of men's eyes, so when they find peace in restful night, an apperceptive threat is certain to forebode as an act being kept.
5.
The Allure of Fame 03:49
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Carrying on, in the shadow of the moor, in the candour of the pariah within shearing exile Seeded in perfect fade, as the sun should rise, however fails, the darkness in a never-recede A void, the predecessor of forgotten meeting, in the all of tremulous fleeting time Of hope, of cause for change, of beauty in ever-stretching dreams Dominated by the hollow of division's conniving congenital ill-reprieve, the one of no love and light crudely laden An evil has left me to the hardest callous, seething in shame and failure forevermore A hatred to follow, for so wallows the cur Finding no salvation, feeling the brilliance of God's love, ceasing as not enough, brought not to life, a rebirth of ill-execution, of a God unequipped So well found ridden in the prosaic transposition Metamorphosed, to a new zenith in this evermore mire I am of the rot, the product of putrescence, the vestige of stark decay, of the acridity of the bog All who have known me, now know me not Celebration in lasting abandonment, a feeling to cherish with unequalled value in every tread A searching conducted into where virtuosity may be, poised halted by the actuality of abstract nothing, stolen findings The human being that once constituted a person fell in the perils, of utter-unavailing absolution, a victim of agonizing circumstance, a convalescence of rejection Gazing through the infinite below, a crucifix pendant in sway, seldom a deflection of tears or of pain, an abundant flaw of imperfect design.
6.
So Espoused 03:28
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Here I lie, illuminated within the allure of Satan's dalliance Enamored through impenitent hatred, a remorseless unparsimony, destruction even meant for the derelict A vie to covet, the height of every attempt forced concrete, a stark absolution Disillusionment construed as the crown of thorns, a dour horde of ingrained spikes, forevermore in the rapacious dissension of gods, heightened in a unequivalent immaculate prowess, a focus of contemptuous timeless eon, death is found in the angels' quiescence, peace in the promise of endowed resurrection, for the battle meets no end, a devoured angel through rebirth once again rid So taken by the Hell that should be mine, a throne in encompassing interminable human suffering, a place of masochistic quenching, a burn unrelenting For eternity, witnessing the expression of visceral ire, a beauty always in present wait, yet always in forming, the rush of perfect belonging, a paradise for those without the penchant of the shepherd lamb Hallowed river of fire, great value is assigned to the purpose of infinite torture, I dwell in rage of this life, for I heed the path of permanent human severance, an endeavour led by the abolition of all human base proclivity For why leave choice unfettered when Satan could be consciously chosen. When Satan can be consciously chosen.
7.
Interminable 03:43
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Nearing, an event just adjacent to a period so immaculate, one stark in etheric fruition, vivacious in unencumbering joviality The moment of ecstasy's manifestation, in ultimate elation The shelter before entering the mire of forevermore tribulation Ensuing, a great wallow, so deeply laden within me, a rife of misfortune in magnitude A fortitude of visual and tactile proceedings, superseding, and decimating Orchestrated shear, of no mercy, forsworn a fleeting glee Such memory of genuine happiness brings nothing but strife Leaving me a toil, to a foist of finding sufficient contempt to consume me, to lay barren the emotion of such adverse suffering A passion as brisk and brilliant as flaming star, to an acquiescence, to an evermore cycle of recede to bury The agony of recalling a time that love could be sincere, when the common lore of beauty was innately endearing So to a summoning and concerted abolition An incantation of utter annihilation Within me, an impetus well visited, of a hatred stirring A willingness of the most wicked of turpitude To no mourning of loss, the outset of its very source, a conniving malice of repeatedly new intention A reckoning in which all is filth The material misconstrued as life, to a replacement through conviction, purposed unequivocally through metamorphosis, meant for obliteration To Satan's exaltation through me, for I am the same as when from which I came Neither name nor label is required in this compulsion for extinction An ire for my restitution, for a Hell's retribution Righteousness will find itself disavowed, fluttering in misery inundating, locked to floor in psychical bellowing, alone in God's forsaking.
8.
Iniquity of Self 03:28
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As light forever fades, my heart is callous in regret Unwavered with age, bled in broad day Dwelling on other side of fenced wellness, barred, insalvable. Rife with attempts for change Darkness beholden, blindly entrenched, never within. God's plan predestined In every outcome, i am eternally without, appointing blame to a deplored self. The sight of unattainable love, a visceral stab of ghostly slayer. To no resolve, for what remedy, retribution's failure. Thoughts of resolution garner enlievened torture. Avail unexpected, a monolog whirling, plaguing my subjectivity. This interminable misfortune is of myself. I willed the execution of deserted love. I trampled the meaning of merriment's purpose. Leave me to seethe, leave my wounds exposed. I chose to wear my choice so as to see it for eternity. As dictated to remain, fruitless the ire of my indignance. Standing evermore outside divided line. I am the haunt of my own loneliness. To turpitude, so that I may be jaded. A forging of emotion's destruction. I heave for it's abolition, striving to live a life commended by a Satan. Christ's vaunt of salvation merits an oppositional equal. I am enveloped, a coalescence to such evil, a convergence indivisible. Newly edified, I have new will. A new strength, to break the once taunting hinge of gateways. The distinction however being, no longer a climb meant for loving congregation. Carrying poignant new meaning, one of besiege, one of violence. A rapacious crossing, to end the light of morning's dawning. To lay waste the shine of joviality. My adversary will meet, in solemn acquaintance, my agony. Known will be the mire of all my suffering.
9.
Error of Innocence 03:09
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I am the implement of superlative evil, the instrument of the most prominent revile I am made well in the blackest of darkness, a fade indominable, a veil men can never fathom  A drive of proclivity greater than misdirected hate, a broad indignance met with irreverent seething eyes I am plentifully aware of the eternal perdition in coming wait, it lies conspicuous, beckoned through a predilection of intention and action, an unfettered scathing eternity I know the pain will be only great, and then untenably magnified, a boldness forever unbearable, yet the inclination delineated of primacy remains unalterable For the redemption is that not of the putrid lamb, wretch's ire of endowment, a supernatural precedence never to fail In every deceptive sentiment, spoken in warmth, of rebirth, a system of absent sun, to your opposition Evermore near, credence through the falsehood of cordiality, emphatically accepted as your catering mensch Another frailty of human desire, forever diseased in fallibility, a uniqueness of nothing.
10.
Ending Absence 02:54
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The sheath of abandon, the morrow of evermore forgotten, the black field of cold and echoless fog, heralded symbols to have left sense to forebode The dread of shearing robbery, a failure of action, a weakness innate, seeded within the broken dreams of creation's essence, my great malfeasance Seething in the vastness of human pretensions, those colloquial aberrant penchants, finding the worth of earnings starkly absent, I am utter nothing I hope in unwavering conviction, the cowardice of all will go on quenching itself within it's nothing, within an apprehension invariably self-contrived Failing once more, drawing the crudely made blade, striking none but myself, witnessing the undifferentiated life drip from my hollowness, forevermore of a deep worthlessness Tell me, prominent voice draining my mind, laden within me is a deceit, fill me with promises that I in myself won't keep Of a dawn spurring love, of a light, of meaning not simply mis-assigned, of life beyond In putrid indignance, of a hate reviled, waste not the inadequate merit of lull Beckon the persecutory delusions, bring me to knees, lender of consciousness, tend to me a stimulus with primacy given to some vestige of self-preservation Or fail, as is the trending fashion.

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released October 4, 2019

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Deciphering the Luciferian image

Deciphering the Luciferian Fort Frances, Ontario

Daniel Herbert - Everything

Deathcore out of Canada.

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