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lyrics

The frailty of that which separates
the lechers, the pangs of bewilderment
and frustration, has thrived.
I feel the hold of footing erode beneath me,
all progression thus far in vain.

I speak now only in tongues of spite,
horrified at the harshness of curses
I once dared not to speak.
Their searing edges burn expressions
of disdain and discontent into every inch of my flesh,
like a collection of faces preserved in mortar.
This insidious, foreign will grows into
thorns of vile intent, existing only to spread,
to flourish, to rend my spirit.
Promises I once had sworn to keep,
now forgotten and rotting
in the bowels of my anguish,
appeal to the reason of one no longer present.

credits

from The Blackest Volume (Like All the Earth Was Buried), released February 17, 2017

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Sunlight's Bane Michigan

Midwestern grinding death painting an atmosphere of horror and visciousness across the necks of listeners.

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