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letra de the unbound - a wake in providence

bringer of torment

as i open my eyes to see
what has become of your beauty
a grotesque amalgamation of what you used to be
has vanished

(to see the grotesquely perfect
sight of beauty vanish)
a frighteningly tormented ghost, incessantly roaming the halls of the catacomb
though i prayed
an answer i did not hear
sanity escapes me
through this maddening
archetype of a ghastly fiend

i can’t believe all that i’ve done
what a blasphemous being i’ve become
and i owe it all to you
o’ elusive one
one last thing
can you bring me the head of the gleaming sun!?

as we must shun
the one that gives out the warmth
to the destitute and the doomed
beyond the fog (beyond the fog)
she grieves the moon
and we must burn through time
become the conflagration
of the conflated blessing
to be is to feel the pain
scribe these words o’ great h-ll bound
bleak apparition
bringer of torment
the curse bestowed is not free
(but she continues to speak through me)
ignorant indifference
wields the cost of blood and skin
to reanimate my darling

and i’ve paid it
ten fold
at the cost of my blood
and that of my cleansed soul
but it’s no matter
for the agony, and the maddening
to continue their blight upon me

a soul departed
from the body lives lost
to fulfill a purpose
existing between h-ll and what we left in this liminal sp-ce
to suffer in a purgatorial sentence of
the bleakest blankness
though the blackest flame rest at the depths
of the great altar of the marquis amon
i’ll stand at the foot of the deep abyss devouring the light
unbound from the body
free to roam the garden, tell me
where they buried
my darling
please tell me
where she’s buried…

(to be is to feel nothing)
scribe these words o’ great h-ll bound

bleak apparition
bringer of torment
the curse bestowed is not free
(but she continues to speak through me)
ignorant indifference
wields the cost of blood and skin
to reanimate my darling

i mourn the cold darkness of her eyes
though h-ll hath marked the flesh of a goddess
the mind remains
to consume what’s left of me
(unbound from the body
free to roam the garden
existing between purgatorial liminal sp-ce)
my ears, they ring (deafening)
with the dreadful sound of misery
emanating from inside
unleashing the deity
raum within my dreams
lord of vanishing
great earl of h-ll
what do you see when
i see the face in…

- a wake in providence

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