1. |
Wolcnum
15:07
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2. |
Weathered Stones
10:00
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Discarded Left sentient Known only to the moss
Etchings weathered meaningless Hieroglyphs of time from dust Passed and conquered
a monolith of sister stones aligned Stellar cairns betrothed in loss Wards scribed to greater strength Gilded stones with sigils revealed
Only boughs of ash cast respite Its sole guardians Throngs of blighted being Of a mound wrought in naught
To reap of decay Stricken of from shadows brought
Begotten to non-life Formed anon to linger anon, twixt anon anon
Shroud and mire Beseeching tide as yore staggers adrift yet cast aside Endlessly wandering
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3. |
A Fevered Grip
08:10
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Unfathomable The grasp of mute eyes Despondent Staring The wrath of distaste and pride
a fetid tongue brought to womb Wrought to encompass Black clouds circling a swirling mist Betraying lull To this time of grace
a vermin's kiss Lichened grip a penny's worth Of a flowers guest ashen birth Of decaying sentinels
Smothered repose Of the hapless Enshrouded in amaranthine display Encased
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4. |
The Father of My Trials
09:40
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Regression of my humanity The primal call Instinct and yearning Wary from travel I gather my thoughts as if tired feet Before a warm fire Grappling with defeat a struggle all to familiar at the brink of collapse If only to let them Lull me down
Manifold 'twixt a precipice If I step will I fall Will I give up everything Is it failure or defeat
an enveloping presence The father of my trials and the call grows stronger The voice of the father of my trials
Fleeting before me Faltering strength Lost forever Unfounded by denial Lasting til the last beat of my heart
an enveloping presence The father of my trial and the call grows stronger The voice My voice The father of my trials
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5. |
This Feral Temple
05:52
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Come to me a quaking mass with open arms Wretched legion In darkness of mind
as wood smoke lingers Gathering amongst the alder and pine a time of yore remembered a time of honor restored
The dutiful and selfless Soil rich with pious life Given in pools of reverence This feral temple alive
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6. |
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He comes in many forms
His whispers are waves
His essence wrought of stone
His thoughts are of fire
His breath brings the filament of life
In his presence there is no honor
Grace is sub-servitude or death
Primogen sacrificed for his delectation
Daughters wilt at his kiss
Decaying tryst of kings
The greatest of men
Succumbed to the grasp of his being
Braced with lust incarnate
The gleam of his crown
Reflection of the throes of naught
His thoughts are of fire
His breath brings the filament life
The myriads congregate
An expression of goetia exonerated
Anointing his brow
The daughters of man
The sons of stags
An adornment upon his alter
Blessed sacrament of which he devours
We come before him
Humbled, baring tribute
Devout wanderers lost
His is the spirit in us
Yet his body is lost
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Stoic Dissention Broomfield, Colorado
Stoic Dissention is a project that began in 2010 to explore avant-garde, dark, and intense atmospheres. While we are associated with heavy metal in aesthetic and instrumentation, we allow for the intangible and esoteric to guide our vision. Our fire burns bright as we travel deeper into the darkness of the human condition. ... more
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