1. |
Thrice Sown Seeds
05:25
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deep sown seeds in the weathered clay of ancients
fog of dawn blankets the soil in dew and gray
stems bending in the wind gusts and biting thunder
blades open towards the light of fire and heat of day
harvest scythe swings over the field as a razor pendulum
shadows of the hunter lurk at the forest's overgrown edge
the gatherer's gaze solemnly up at the tower of silos
a palmful of seeds, dusty and dry, husks trampled in soil
sprinkled over dirt like loaming ashes drifting thrown
crops erupt through fielded crust with skyward fists raised
distant steppes down valley and hill hyenas roams
pups laughter echoes in the clans earthly praise
seeds placed in furrows sprout to the tune of rain
open summoning hands reaching primal clouds
trimming the compass rose steel sharpens steel
deceitful phantasm study only the blade that is real
the pitiful will succumb to the empty call hoarding all they can
the strong do give of their forge bellows and open larder
while the bold stand at the edge of civilization
grinding meal from thrice sown grain
and they transform
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2. |
Wall of Daggers
04:27
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the crow's iron call slips through the still biting air
clouds of smoke obscure the valley hanging like a noose
the husk of buildings stand brittle and dry nuclear decadence
withering household overcome by consumption
a blight of fences swarm of cutthroat beckoning
lost soles seething in self loathing
lethal lances soaked in poisoned wells
eyes sutured with the thread of hegemony
stomach soured by a diet of bile and vacuoius sweets
pack of wild dogs teeth sharp and clean by green bark
storm of vultures await the prey to hunt themselves
whether by spell to lift curses and shorten sons shadow
or by pike polearm medicine and prickling phalanx
Put to rest, in purgatory
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3. |
Caravan on the Steppes
04:42
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cloven hoof paws the earth baking the wide red sun
oasis of the spirit the mirage water slakes the throat
desert herd clusters against raking winds of dust
burden of the pack beast groaning straps sway
blood coursing down the valleys of history into future lakes
sand washes and scours the superficial smooth
sigils mark the simple core our anchor to history
weathered stones stand sentry over the thrumming earth
sacred dunes shift and sway with the voice of winds
ancestral trails shifting and winding through hillsides
our footfalls trace ourselves tripping over tribal roots
honored vegetation precipitation lush trunks and leaves
the homeland nestled between the marsh and wastes
we teeter over the desolate quagmire bubbling
our home is the balance between descication and decay
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4. |
The Fruits of Fear
04:05
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heirloom blossom the petals sickly sweet on the palate but cramping with bitterness shifting eyes gripped by a bloom of wide pupils and sweat the coward holds an ornamental knife an empty talisman of warding sapping strength and seeping fantasy hands clam in confusion to cover the blight of blood and conceal the sour of soil spirit drinks deep of the rotting hole
he who is of the takers has no route of wolves nor pride of lions
the wooded voices steadfast in wisdom and deep morot roots
parade of elephants stand sternly and bemused
a wake of vultures flap merrily hopping on the sands
a cauldron of bats invite us to the swarm
wind whispers over the tendrils of tuberous grubs under the yawn of clouds
cackle of roaming hyenas teeth shown a bask of crocodiles peering like logs
dawn sings the maze of mold and soil and lost in the fungus labyrinthine
the consumnation of fear is to become consumed to be husk of desiccation
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5. |
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Zi Dingir Anna Kanpa! <<Spirit God Of The Sky, Remember>>
Zi Dingir Kia Kanpa! <<Spirit God Of the Earth, Remember>>
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Barag-Ur Sweden
We push rocks apart as we reach for the sun, while binding Earth and holding floodwaters. The landscape is our voice and the collision of civilization is our bones, broken, sharp, knitting and calloused. The future we face is a warping echo of the past; we are the grain that others have sown. ... more
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