Incultus

The cosmos is a mindless vortex A seething ocean of blind forces In which the greatest joy is unconsciousness And the greatest pain realisation" Still, darkness torments me As I'm engulfed by light No thing beneath me But the all-consuming sea Death smells familiar And its fumes ignite my eyes Still, I see nothing As I fall to my demise "For what does it matter Whether we suffer or not? Our feelings are The most trivial of incidents In the unending cycle Of existence.

Submitted by Lake of Tears — Apr 26, 2025

In this tomb Wrought by ice Solidified, my eyes Stare blankly at night sky Cold and soulless As I die Helpless Unable to comprehend Iced, in extremis A frozen god Damned, alone 'Til time is gone Time will end In this tomb Wrought by ice Solidified, my eyes Stare blankly at night sky Cold and soulless As I die Watching, waiting, slowly dying Never to decay A shell preserved for all time Iced, in extremis A frozen god Herald of death lives on

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Apr 26, 2025

All the trivial pleasures of Erthe Are but bile and bitter venom When all has darkened Hatred's light shall guide me The torrid winds of my home No longer warm my flesh I turn my gaze to the sea To my forgotten enemy The weight of prophecy No longer burdens me I save my strength To be reborn Behind me is that world of Ash The cold air shortens my breath Winters Spirits grow stronger As I draw near I hope my death Absolves me of my wrongs I hope, I hope it is cold I hope, I hope it hurts And as my life is ripped away I hope I try to hold on I go alone Into Erthe's frozen womb The weight, the weight of the cold Is too much, Too much to bear I hope it's cold I hope it hurts As Wormwood fell Into the sea I became Nobody Though tales are told Of the cold No one knows How it feels

Submitted by Celtic Frost — Apr 26, 2025

Cursed be thy name The outcast one; companionless. Who by his will betrayed His beautiful creation. It is unspoken And he is resolute He is broken He will not say If he's the enemy He is no one His mind will rot And crows will tear his flesh Live long, feel naught When given life He found a way to die He is no one So here's your land; This Barren Erthe. Both thorn and thistle shall it grow for you. And though you'll eat of it, It never satisfies. And you will curse its name! Incultus!

Submitted by The Void — Apr 26, 2025

This track is instrumental.

Is this song not instrumental?