Spiritual Independence
This track is instrumental.
Violent lithany from a lost tombstone forgotten by all Mournful lithany make flat mental vibration. Never born in the year of my birth I will die just my head out from the womb Slowing all centuries are swallowed by primitive shadows. My name is Legion, Dictator of Religion Tonight was born an old Man, tonight dies a new born child Secret spell research in a desert Where the sanctuary is long far from the eyes... Profane Equilibrium Lithany effect Cosmic strikes on material dimension...Changes My name is Legion, Dictator of Religion Never born...In the year of my birth.
Submitted by NecroLord — Apr 26, 2025
Once I Read on a tombstone with no name. Never will know we are existed. Toll the knell, mantric sound of bell. Toll the knell, vibration magic spell. Marble tomb, lapid dolmen tomb. Tumulo, tombstone without name. But I comprehend all what I learned... I killed the son of my time. Now I listen, the syllable LAM. In front of ME a singing stone... The secret and sacred superior arts, the wise is concealed.
Submitted by NecroGod — Apr 26, 2025
Tolling the knell, for your premature death. Naturalis mors, sacra aera templi funerea tinniunt. Audi! Procul ab aere turris sepulcri quod canant. Oculos suos figendo quod dicunt ausculta, Ille mortus est! Homo sapiens tantum,scit quod esse sententiam mortis immaturae. Pedibus erose eundum in directe cupressuum ordine instructo Hic turbati funeris versibus ornare! Naturalis progressus ut escluderent ommem morbum et pestilentia. Roga nuturalem mortem ut essentiam et formam librent. In gentile terra sepulcrum meum construo! Cape manus suas, algidas manus, spiritui assidente. Triste signum per tactum et oscolum dona! Inevitabilis mors, cineris ad cineres a vento effusas. Voluntaria mors, redimus ad uterum almae matris. Infinita mors, corpus non comburere, lenta tabe peredunt vermes. Naturalis mors, dimitte naturam et principia operas agere! Fatum est sit omnium mors. Domina consternationis, naturalis infauda thanatos! Touch the medium cold hands, a touch, a séance. Every kind of death is doomed... Mistress of the dismay, the unmentionable, the death The bell tolling for your premature death.
Submitted by Pestilence — Apr 26, 2025
The place for deepest reflections where the voices are silent where footsteps resound in the mind where breath becomes an eternal anguish Death...only life is buried and the remains are forgotten under the grave their essence perspires from the soil and their sorrows become my obsession A hundred dancing candles lighten my walk in the thirteenth path The crosses around me I feel their screams tearing my brain I can hear their litanies The coffin as last terrestrial abode the funeral as last farewell a human interpretation of the end the key is to not understand Mortal remains... A hundred dancing candles
Submitted by Cyberwaste — Apr 26, 2025
Ancestral book without title and author. Presence and witness of races and cycles. Antropomorphic idol without legs. As tone warrior who doesn't share at war... a presence without language and name. Your events run in front of it... like a catalogue of History in order in time. An absence, who always changes at time's mercy. Immutable Presence, Immutable Witness You're subjected at the time... Personal death for every one, a choice, a chance by destiny. Antropomorphic idol without legs. The Immutable Presence... The Immutable Witness!!!!!
Submitted by NecroGod — Apr 26, 2025
This track is instrumental.
Now you're welcome in the graveyard... dance of the air around the grave where you will lie. It's a premonition, hour of the death, an anniversary of a child that not Rest In Peace. Enter the cemetery, in the dead of night, the miasma of the earth, there's a manifestation. Begin when the rigor mortis, leave the wave of life. Ignis Fatuus, occult of the nature. It has been the flame of a stake that never languish. Shining breath on the mirror surface, through the resurrected dead. Regressive remember of foregoing life... Remorse that does not find peace... It's too late to repent.
Submitted by MetalElf — Apr 26, 2025
He turns over in the grave... Fine person killed but not still dead. A crime committed by hands of the parasite priest Inquisitor frantic, fanatic religion, dizziness, confused Pope depositary of lies, parasite damage. A cult of hypocrisy... show me the horror! Altars alterated realterating reality... Blinded by all superstitious.
Self reliance, riding deep down a corridor. At the sides there are statures to bow one's head. My will lead, my silence to forgive. Priestess, in liquid shroud, essence of water... wet my Spirit!!!! Only, I've got my lantern. Only I, put on my cloak. Only I, I drink from cup. Only I, I keep the wand of command. Spiritual independence. Indulgence...and expiation.
Submitted by Dahmers Fridge — Apr 26, 2025