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1. |
Introduction
01:08
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What faith?
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2. |
Echoes of Acquiescence
04:51
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Alone evermore.
Until the presence of time,
the goad of lore,
the season of witches' growth.
Amalgamation,
the joining of evil, the voiding of trepidation,
to the beauty of the great fucking whore.
Fuckin whore.
Jezebel witch fuck.
I am worthless,
superior to men,
subservient, and the acolyte of none.
Awareness bears fruition.
Awareness is maturation.
Tenuous failure,
I am the coward of Christ no more.
Holy Spirit disavowed,
I proclaim Satan,
within me,
alive and well.
What's happened to me?
I'm not the way I used to be.
There is no going back,
falling not for the remedy.
Falling not into the faith of being free.
This is what's happened to me.
Connipshit.
Fuckin worthless.
Forsakable nothing.
Nothing.
Fucking nothing.
Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing.
So tell the wretched whore.
Tell the wretched, tell the wretched, tell the wretched.
Tell the wretched whore.
Whore.
Christ rival me in your deceit.
Drive the pierce,
twist to bleed,
never come looking for kindness in me.
Forevermore,
I am the coward of Satan's knee.
Forevermore.
The truth is brought as within deceit.
Satan beckons me,
my reality,
my ire of eternity.
Where the fuck is love?
Where the fuck is life?
Awareness bears fruition.
Awareness is maturation.
Tenuous failure,
I am the coward of Christ no more.
I am the coward of Christ no more.
Holy Spirit disavowed,
I proclaim Satan,
within me,
alive and well.
Alive and well.
Well,
within me.
Satan.
There is no going back,
falling not for the remedy.
Falling not into the faith of being fucking never free.
What God?
This is my life.
This is who I will always be.
The deceit is on my own.
Love.
Love.
I am nothing.
Nothing.
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3. |
Adapt
04:29
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Do you know the mire of pain?
The relentless hate of self and failure?
Show me the hidden truth of worth.
Once again great Satan,
fill me with hope to be, yet never as for me.
Irreverent joy,
Christ of no clemency,
where is the majesty of your deceit?
Of your paradise's deceit?
Guide me to meaning.
To a place of no closed hands,
voiding love and evermore rejection.
Why am I still alive?
What spared me from fixed-shut empathy and kept loyalty?
Hate cherishes me.
Hate keeps me.
The evil within me shines more brilliant than the light of human mores.
Far ethereal the darkest of malevolent sufferings.
I grow so weary.
I grow so weary of family and jovial company.
Wreck the whole in its joint putrid core.
To no more.
No more.
Hands forever barren,
my hands are empty.
Fucking empty.
I now know the rejection of Satan.
Wholly, I am alone.
None to love with the mock of your joviality.
Fuck your merriment.
Fuck your wholeness,
in company, family, and love.
My animosity to your infinite equivalence.
My dark to the vie of your sickened righteousness.
Dwell unwell onlooker.
Let me in.
Let me in,
to our eternal destruction.
Let me in,
to the kvell of utter annihilation.
To my hopeless retribution.
Beckoned is the devoid hand,
in which oblivion is to fit well.
So well.
An immaculate conception.
Cold.
I've grown so weary,
of family and jovial company.
So wreck the whole in its joint putrid core.
To no more,
no more.
My hands forever barren,
my hands are fucking empty.
Empty.
How I now know the rejection of Satan.
Wholly, I'm alone.
There's no love with the mock of joviality.
So continuing to fail,
always on the floor.
Christ,
my apostasy,
my apostasy.
Let me in.
Do you even know yourself?
Let me in.
Do you even know yourself?
Let me in.
So let the darkness seep into your mind.
Feel the silk of Satan.
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4. |
Immure
05:41
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This is a hate eternal.
A contemptuous stain so visceral the lamb's blood shears far too thin.
A tenuous ring of immortality's fiction.
A paragon.
A paradigm by which in reflection continues to die.
In the next proliferation of generation.
Human waste of nothing to always nothing.
I will watch you fall.
As befallen in the illusion of existence,
birth the belie.
Awake to the devoid reality.
The mire of your everlasting meaninglessness.
Coward, fucking rise to the realization.
Drown as your sincerity in the fettered abysmal ash.
Wallow the bog.
Bellow the evermore haunt of your restriction.
The immure of your cumbersome existence.
The revile of cursed faith. The foundational novelty none layne.
Fuckin rot.
Fuckin rot.
Fuckin rot.
So as you saunter in a meander.
An absence of actuality,
a failure of repetition.
Wretched revulsion.
Let slip the knife.
Toss the barren worth of the entirety of the species.
In desperation look for consolation in deceit.
Fuckin caustic coward.
Riddle the line of your self-dichotomy.
Be, yet never are.
Be, yet never fucking are.
A tenuous ring of immortality's fiction.
A paragon.
A paradigm by which in reflection continues to die.
In the next proliferation of generation.
Human waste of nothing to always nothing.
I will watch you fall.
As befallen in the illusion of existence,
birth the belie.
Awake to the devoid reality.
The mire of your everlasting meaninglessness.
Coward,
fucking Coward.
Coward,
Coward.
Fucking deliver us to the realization.
Drown as your sincerity in the fettered abysmal ash.
Wallow the bog.
Bellow the evermore haunt of your restriction.
The immure of your cumbersome existence.
The revile of cursed faith.
The foundational novelty none layne.
Fuckin rot.
Saunter in meander.
An absence of actuality,
an aberrant failure of repetition.
Wretched revulsion.
Let slip the knife.
Toss the barren worth of the entirety of the species.
In desperation look for consoling deceit.
Fuckin caustic coward.
Riddle the line of your self-dichotomy.
Be, yet never are.
A contemptuous stain so visceral,
the lamb's blood shears far too thin.
A tenuous ring of immortality's fiction,
a paragon,
an image of all love left slain.
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5. |
The Darkness
05:51
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Running and hiding in ideal fathoms,
A path broadens in the absence of sight.
Pray for blindness.
Keep the adages for those of lost limbs.
In a paradigm corrupt, affix a new cross, a new God.
One of societal actuality, a God of gears,
revolving in interminable fortress.
The myths of old have been drained,
the plethora of antiques dwell solely as gild,
a falsehood of no merit.
Hoarding the dust of the living dying.
Curse me,
Jehovah, Seth, Osiris, Christ, and goddess Athena.
Fucking curse me,
curse me.
Yet, I stand in virility and fortitude of my own.
My will is immaculate,
your aphorisms forgotten.
Your whisper of existence an abomination.
The daft derelicts exalting your vacant forms,
the true point of my ire and actionable to turpitude.
Be audacious, so manifest.
The daft derelicts exalting your vacant forms,
are the true point of my ire and actionable to turpitude.
Be audacious, so manifest.
Breathe life into the death of yourself.
Yet, your failure is undoubtedly written.
Embroiled within those of minds and thought.
Worthless the cross.
Worthless the projection of an entity's extrinsic salvation.
Fuck the connotation of light and purity.
I exalt myself above you all.
The heaven is of my own design and so to the hell of my own discarded malfeasance.
If only the devil could possess me now.
Do you hear the devil?
To give the shame of archaic word a segway to truth.
But there is only the tenuous,
the cowards fueling all breeds of misanthropy.
I will fucking kill you all.
My God,
my winding fortress will besiege you.
For you are besieged.
Befallen already in the devoid beguile.
For your prayers are futile.
Speak, only ears can hear you.
Stoke yourself in the creation of perdition's fire.
Burn wretched fucking liars.
Running and hiding in ideal fathoms,
A path broadens in the absence of sight.
Pray for blindness.
Keep the adages for those of lost limbs.
In a paradigm corrupt, affix a new cross, a new God.
One of societal actuality,
a God of gears,
revolving in interminable fortress.
The myths of old have been drained,
the plethora of antiques dwell solely as gild,
a falsehood of no merit,
hoarding the dust of the living dying.
Curse me,
curse me.
Jehovah, Seth, Osiris, Christ, and goddess Athena.
Yet, I stand in virility and fortitude of my own.
My will is immaculate,
your aphorisms forgotten.
Your whispers of existence an abomination.
I will kill you all.
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6. |
In Vain
03:50
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For the one who does not love, the dweller of grey,
the one who remains,
in calamity of hollow nothing,
those with the deepest thread of life irreparably torn
As passions seem to be cascading to a heaven of no ambivalence,
absent is my reverence
Where sentiment is never construed as the oddity, but yet, endearing
In eyes so well in unequivocal glow, me, you'll never know
A hidden conviction, a pledge to deceit.
A charisma so beguiling, malevolence is the latent everything
Even in moments so stark in ethereal essence,
of distinct perfection in thought founded certainty
In no way am I the one of your exuding trust
There is nothing in death,
there is a set of circumstances in which God does fail
Of such, I'm kept to venom, the passing of that which was bequeathed.
The torrid scent of love, synonymous to life soon rid in pit of thorns.
I'll carry so far beneath, keeping to such nuance,
no angel nor devil will speak in confidence of looming eventuality
Bringing to a place of no remedy
So low
So without, you won't even see me, the enemy,
in a consuming crush of emotional trauma, none will see your wounds,
what prayer is not made silently
So in failure, whisper the tale
Disseminate the meaningless message
Speak of caution for benefit of the next generation
To whose hope, to no solution
In each step, a drive so far forsworn of weakness, of any humanity
I will lay waste to all that hinder existence
Of utter primacy, the one kneeling in homage rather than seething pain
God will remember the voice of unrelenting tears, of the slain
My mark will be met by the highest sky
To a revenant of revelation, to a superior extinction,
one worthy of the predominant name of Satan
Worthy so as to be within.
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7. |
Dreams
06:29
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"I want to feel the pain, I want to feel the hurt."
Of a parallel, a duality of where I should be, yet where I remain,
all lies in the certainty of looming demise.
There can be agony in absolute nothing.
Emaciated, mangled in the dirt.
A porous soil, filling to the core
A vision of unattended grave, entrenchment through enthralling mistakes,
a stare catatonic into the path diametric to breath,
my present self and my future ended.
Alone, shear the cold, "I want to feel the pain, I want to feel the hurt."
Will discovers no restitution.
Forgotten in foreswear the aberrant expectation.
It's confluence with non-existent coincidence
Vacant the house of aspiration, riddle the meaningless depth
Lie death, bequeath the crude hole of my eternity,
cease the churn of interminable conflict
A mortal behest, the failing of flesh,
the clash of putrid love with unrelenting self-hatred.
The failing of flesh, with unrelenting self-hatred.
The clash of putrid love.
A visceral cruelty abounds
The mire of my and all's worthlessness
A burden so far striking heaves for utter conviction, animosity to action, mercilessness, depredation
My pain, a message to canvas
Envisioning the deepest and truest of Christians,
foisted into Satan's worship,
their children bludgeoned in broken efforts of self-preservation,
their faith muddled in abandonment of promise
For so dawns the pariah of forevermore bog, the linger of torrid shame
My retribution
My infinite retribution.
For even the coward will know my emptiness
A hollow in misery of toiling and a beguile in cure
Clawing in heightened pitch, never dulcet, anguish of wallow echoing,
"so bring me back from the dead."
"so bring me back from the dead."
So to the absolution of rising the hierarchical mount,
to Hell's position of determined consolidation, to ubiquitous genocide,
to genesis through my exaltation
As Satan, I too am God, the auto-theist
To an end of ablated flesh and anguish never relinquishing its bleating
To my installment of reckoning
Forgotten is emancipation
Living in fortitude is my product, the turpitude of man's twisting suffer
Know the endless bellow, the haunting abandon of love and home,
the reason for my anger's bolster
To my sympathy, to my understanding,
to my evermore pain onlooker
Will discovers no restitution, forgotten in forswear the aberrant expectation.
A visceral cruelty abounds
The mire of my and all's worthlessness
A burden so far striking heaves for utter conviction, animosity to action, mercilessness, depredation
My pain, a message to canvas.
My retribution.
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8. |
In Depths
05:35
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I am so alone, in fantasy, I believe an embrace will bring the warmth of cynism to belief.
Bereft.
I know that this is the slither of hope, of bold calamity's fallacy.
In what allegory can I find change. What God feels unabashed enough. Enough to claim responsibility and provisional remedy.
In what filter can I foster a brilliant light that will leave me to believe.
Is this my own deceit, my own progeny of all that I've belied? The balancing of inequivalent licentiousness with hallowed deemed. The vindication of fidelity and lore in all its order, so predictable, finding itself again in worthless tomorrow. Devoid the cacophony.
Is this my own deceit, my own progeny of all that I've belied? The balancing of inequivalent licentiousness with hallowed deemed.
To my sorrow, to my empathy and understanding of the devil.
Psychical pain seeps evermore inward, rejection becomes a mark of my senses' redundancy, Hate curses Christ's false endurance of eternity. Retreated to his outstretched, gilded, perfect paradise.
I will be the one with all's destruction in solemn grip. I will solve the windings of secrecy. To venture through the tree of life removed through what was bequeathed. I will enter your palace of fools and circle your white throne through besiege. Besieged in malice, what to not beckon full action.
Your pensive servants will be enamored with duplicitous revelry. My rapacious endeavor appearing just and equitably sown. Your meritless kind yielded as they fall to the beguile of their continued innocuous existence.
The earth too shall see its unprecedented peril. Far greater than the pestilence of simple ages. Heaven will collapse under the ciders of fitted embellishment's failure. To blaze, crashing to the filth of all humanity's zenith. The very worth so exalted by men will be this emblem of stoking fury. As an abomination was cast downward, stripped of title, burdened to fail. Burdened to fail.
To my sorrow, to my empathy and understanding of the devil.
Psychical pain seeps evermore inward, rejection becomes a mark of my senses' redundancy, Hate curses Christ's false endurance of eternity. Retreated to his outstretched, gilded, perfect paradise.
I will be the one with all's destruction in solemn grip.
Besieged in malice, what to not beckon full action.
Your pensive servants will be enamored with duplicitous revelry. My rapacious endeavor appearing just and equitably sown.
The earth too shall see its unprecedented peril. Far greater than the pestilence of simple ages. Heaven will collapse under the ciders of fitted embellishment's failure. To blaze, crashing to the filth of all humanity's zenith.
As an abomination was cast downward, stripped of title, burdened to fail.
So far perpetual.
As it was and is, too shall it be to come.
As it has been, yet is, and yet to come.
A paradise asunder, a falsehood of perfection to violent release. Impunity in the founding of freedom.
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9. |
Absence
02:42
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The illusory intimacy,
In absence, so deeply marked in redundancy
A pain of the psyche, so long enduring.
A Slate to clean.
An evermore anger enlivening
Poised for failure, for the future is looming.
Denoted by simple extrapolation of past and present coalescing.
Each pitiful gaze from beauty taken far fancifully,
where is the doubt in the innate need.
Quickly turning to ire, rushed the seethe,
emboldening the ideations of illumination.
Seeking release.
A catharsis,
returning to the wretched worthlessness of all hallowed's deemed.
In end's effort,
A direction to the meaningless.
An animosity, toward Christian myth,
that which was purported as wellness, an alleged turmoil's ceasing,
the ever-love waiting.
In certainty of no messiah, a sickness never lifting,
to dissension not family and love.
I wake to the perils of Satan's concerted rock, a revenant to fiction,
for its roots are laden with purpose.
To all that has been allowed, to what was written as permitted,
I allocate myself to righteousness's abolition.
To violence the innocence of your creation,
to cripple those deeply dejected by collapsing deception
Vying for retribution.
Senses utterly nulled,
Seeing then, how sincerely you have been undone.
So fucking then,
a slate to be cleaned.
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10. |
Absolute Perdition
02:56
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Here, as I've always been,
Unseen, in the plethora of none's many,
Shrouded in sickness, laden with madness, waiting for hell.
An eternal life in tragic murder's infinite, dying to never die,
with a pain evermore intensifying, to never relish salvation's languish,
a hold beyond the tolerance of a God,
forevermore the untenable horror.
The untenable horror.
To the false Christ's consternation, for I want no heaven,
My cycle of choice, always leading to an absolute perdition.
To a forever unend.
To brazen revulsion.
Send me to the flames, the flames of the eternal perdition.
Take me to hell.
Still yet Here, as I've always been,
Unseen, in the plethora of none's many,
Shrouded in sickness, laden with madness, waiting for hell.
An eternal life in tragic murder's infinite, dying to never die.
Dying to never die.
With a pain evermore intensifying, to never relish salvation's languish,
a hold beyond the tolerance of a God, forevermore the untenable horror.
Forevermore the untenable horror.
To the false Christ's consternation, for I want no heaven.
My cycle of choice, always leading to an absolute perdition.
To a forever unend.
To brazen revulsion.
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Deciphering the Luciferian Fort Frances, Ontario
Daniel Herbert - Everything
Deathcore out of Canada.
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