This starry wisdom at the place of crossing
Will start the profound change of ego
Succumb to the mood of hopelessness
Esoteric orders will come forth at the place of descent
Pass and repass at the foot of night
The unconscious anatomy of overwhelming depression
As you lay yourself down in the gaping tomb
Lonesome you listen to the sacred sounds
Bright shining mental sun will fade
Into candlelight and blackened anima
Resist your darkened self
Like a spider poisoning its own creation
Hollow echoes reach your tormented ears
I'll hear no more of these ungracious sounds
These rushing winds sweep these endless graveyards
The ego will crumble at your touch
Sucked up deeper in the marsh
Self-loathing, self-hatred, reach delusional proportions
True nature will turn you into silence and sleep
At this place of contact, where growth and decay touch
The she-goat will colour your temple blood red
You will bathe in the darkest colour
Loss of warmth, hope and love
Paths of joy lead to the nethermost caverns
You fat yourself for the empire of maggots
This is the predicament of the spiritus and anima
The corpus fares no better
Passing the crossing
Body filled with rank poison
Mortal inflation of the veins
Below the place of descent
Tortured by the boar's tusk
Racked by the pains of abortive birth
Intestines turned to stone
Dark are these long extended realms and wastes
Never changing twilight
Names once named are now forgotten
Night gaunts
Buried midst the wreck of things that were
In the greyness where this thundering silence reigns
In the cofin of eternal life
My floating self
I am the illustrus dead
Under earth and in fire
You cannot touch me
Within me all the spawn
Of creation, of rock, of animal, and of green
I am not included by any limits
The heavens of heavens comprehend me not
There is no coming to me with one jump
And none without going about
Cronos dweller in youth eternal
You will not see me
The destroying power of time
Will cast all of their thrones
You will not start the work
Guardians of the gate of Daath
Through which all matter must pass
None will be enlightened in paradise
Beneath lowest of lows
I will be a builder of worlds
Above highest of highs
I will reach the pantheon
Cold and sharp as knife
I discover the enigmas
In this heritage of Adam and Satan
A beast with thousand horns and roaming free
My deadly wounds will heal
And all in this world and beyond shall follow
Arriving at the peak of the almighty work of life
The glory of all this, the glory surrounding us
A golden vision shining on us all
Will fade into darkness and despair
All will see that even the last battle will be lost
All was too corrupt and wasted to continue
This is the tide turning
The hourglass lies broken
Dust cannot be captured
The onset of a new stage
Tenebrositas
A preliminary union of opposites
Prima materia
We will be blessed in the darkness of purgatory
Exercising both a divine and demonic force
From our thrones we can see
The reversal of roles will begin
A universe turned upside down
Rending in pieces high
Bring destruction below
Taste this bitter venom of gods
Bolts are fallen, fastenings are placed
That which has been worshipped as holy
Becomes a twinkle of an eye a monstrous horror
The cup with the elixir of life
Will transform into deadly poison
All will raise the darkened grail
The king united with his bride will wither
In their beds left as terrifying creatures to rot
As death and darkness descend
On a landscape formerly lit up by the golden vision
The key of eternal youth will be a skeleton key
All flesh that is derived from the earth
Must be decomposed and again reduced to earth
Celestial resuscitation
Hollow men lying at the bottom of a precipice
Where the sun never shines
All thoughts will turn black
Heaviness expressing the lower spirits
The black phase of our work has started
We will enter the lower qliphoth now!
I am waiting
Waiting for my mystical sister of old
She will give birth to 777 sons
Ready to raise this exceeding great army of protagonists
I shudder to think, this mystical circle forming
A vortex of incinerating electric deathwinds
Blowing through streets of old and cities anew
Nothing will hold them back, nothing will hold me back
To spit in your faces and cast down your industrial cathedrals
Exceeding boundaries put up by leaders and gods
The filth at my right hand and an army made for my left hand
A climax of anti-matter, the blood in our veins boiling
Embrace this prophetic moment
Come forth the four winds
And learn to whisper the secret word
Only spoken of in Christ's dungeon
No fenix shall rise, no days shall be multiplied
No sky to open up, no sun to shine, no rain to wash
Forming a solemn hunter to enter the microcosmos
Hellish pains pulsating within
No soothing words can be heard
Humiliate, desecrate
All control lost, no straws to be clutched
You will feel our wrath from beyond this open grave
Oh incinerating breath
Breathe upon these slain
That they may live and die again
Stand on your feet and be ready to be cut down
Their bones will construct our empire
An empire washed aflame
This breath of resurrection and rebirth blowing
Bodies dried out, no chance for any hope, all is lost at last
Enter me and let the vortex take hold of me
Let this injustice and corruption be done
Raising voices, battle of words inside the inwards
Dying trees and breaking spines
Smother dying flames and worthless lives
Spirits white as snow and entities darkest of dark
Breathe life into these human ashes
The may-dew collected by our mystical sister
Now falls in a blackened state
Mutus liber
Once mocked are these sons of fathers
Unworthy of vultures
Drained of the putrefacted elixir of life
Hunger of the soul
Driven into vast nocturnal deserts
Cast in the mire
Feeding on the roots of the tree of life and death
Residing in holes beneath the ground
We will open up your graves
Your bones are pierced in yourselves in this night season
Your sinews will take no rest
Lovers will be scattered and torn by the gusts of this storm
about
GROND, chapter two in a trilogy, is an album wholly immersed in abstraction. The instrumentation renders a forceful merging of massive celestial bodies, each a whirling cacophony exuding a unique sonic
trembling. After digesting the lyrics in accordance, what used to sound like the swinging of a pendulum, rather depicts a birth of unintelligible base... a spectral achievement even. Nihill, an outfit still very new to the American public, travels freely from one metal sub-genre to the next. The reflexive nature with which Nihill makes these connections might lead one to consider them genreless. GROND, for example, is at once: drone, doom, noise, industrial, and black metal; arriving at something resembling a sort mechanistic dark ambient more than anything else. If anything this unique need suffer comparison for the sake of cognition, Nihill's nearest contemporaries are the likes of Sunn O))), Blut Aus Nord, Death Spell Omega. Moreover, If realized as an experience, rather than confining the moods and ideas therein to the nulling constructs of a conventional metal record, GROND offers the listener the opportunity to perceive things beyond physicality...
it feels like something of great meaning broke and now there are pieces scattered all around. smoke and dust everywhere. there is a certain bitter beauty to this chaos that you can experience here.
this album is something i often deeply feel and can access through these tunes. thank you so much for that. coo__hoolio
Dark electronic music gets warped and clobbered on the latest from Author & Punisher. Brooding, cutting, and claustrophobic. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 18, 2017
An ambitious, yet tightly executed, death metal debut that trades in crushing riffs, funereal effects, and even the odd Shakespeare quote. Bandcamp New & Notable Jan 25, 2023
With the first half epitomizing the full realization of loss after the fact and the second epitomizing the first wave of grief that follows, this LP acts as a continuation of Hell I, with the first act near identical in theme and composition as MSW's previous album and the second act marking the transition in MSW's sound to one that is a bit more emotional in nature and melodic at times. This album bridges the gap between Hell I and Hell III in terms of stylistic differences. MSW fans, buy this. Camelus Dromedarius