Minsk
Album • 2007
In my darkest hour my blood runs free I’ve come to lie on the fire I’ve come to stare at the sun Where two bleed as one Is it time the sun arrived to burn away the numb In the flesh denying the eyes of time Make me nourishment for the blazing flame Make me food for the sacred fire Tide cast aside open mouth wide The sea cried for me Dead spirit part of me I left you by the sea
Submitted by NecroLord — Apr 25, 2025
The voice cannot carry The tongue and the lips that give it wings For even as love crowns you So shall it crucify you Descend to your roots And shake them from their clinging to the earth We shall be together When the white wings of death Scatter our days
Submitted by NecroGod — Apr 25, 2025
This track is instrumental.
Fire dance of self deprecation dopamine receptivity The orphans of piety we are birthed into sorrow and shame A truth to believe a thirst for reprieve Our throats scorched with the sins of our fathers we burn with the sins of our fathers These sacred certainties floated right past me and I cannot remember my name Scandalous proclivity these orphans of piety We cherish our reprimand pain in your shadow where I stand Draw a circle around me in the sand I have breathed in but released your lungs Of Ave Maria’s from wombs of the one I have wandered each day From the alter to the grave in search of your name and face I have seen your shadow where I stand
Submitted by Sexy Gargoyle — Apr 25, 2025
No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.
Whispered words these walls breathe the inanity of accusation And a moment of gifting passes through what once was identity In a movement beyond truth and falsity I can sense them in the mountains On either side of every side Basking in the seething sun this flesh conjures the infinite mind While well worn pillars of objectivity collapse as if blown asunder By the blameless pawns of poets ecstatically exhuming treasures of forgotten grace The in-betweens surpassing their localities this grey disease reproducing The weapons forever unleashed stockpiled with lies of every kind There is a season a time to die And the word games end as the clock thunders by and the rain sears this pain As my streams keep running dry
Submitted by Warbringer — Apr 25, 2025
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