We tumultuous few revel in our genetic curses.
No harm dealt nor met, yet again, we turn on one another by instinct;
extinct.
Selfish and unlasting instincts.
Now and again our ravings fall flat, slain by the very air which we breathe.
Thou fiendish rage, trace the circle of instinct;
extinct.
Selfish and unlasting instincts.
An utterance now utterly destroyed,
stripped of it's meaning through crazed repetition.
Through selfish and unlasting instincts,
we shall become extinct.
...
This too shall pass... and come back...
because pain is temporary,
but trauma will always linger.
Getting swept up in the merciless undertow driving these all-consuming black-metal songs is half the fun. The other half is in the riffs. Bandcamp New & Notable Jan 17, 2019