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lyrics

What scorn the years have carved onto canvas,
imitating the shape and sight of self.
But it is farce, and you weep
from the sobering impression.

Does the soul sharpen
and eviscerate such doubts,
to act as flare above weary, bowing heads?
Does the smothered flame from ember breathe
to consume and illuminate once more?
You fear that it cannot.

The vacancy behind the eyes deceive.
There breathes something anew,
that which withers in the light of day.

All that has been lost, unease is not among its rank.
The yawn of bleak horizons brings yet no still.
For you, this conflict has no end.
Find from that struggle the gall to disavow
and hear no voice but yours within.

No voice but yours.

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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