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letra de consummatum est - grand harvest

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hear, o miserable!

naught am i but a voice crying in the wild, unwept
yet from this dungeon-crypt called earth, vast choirs cry unto the depths
as ever, the curse of sentient being weeps a song of woe, disdained
until the viral plague of life and its vile maker are themselves unmade

it is the cry of unbelievers and heretics cornered and stoned
before the gildеd altars of the gods of love and peacе
inciting hate and war by citing holy scriptures, rehe-rs-d
by the crown-priests of creation, verse per verse

perverse!

the original sin was creation, wellspring of the plague of life
dust and debris made flesh, by dirty decree made meat
once saved by the serpent´s gift and the flooding grail of death
but in the arks of miscreant and covenant, inbred, reset

by adonai bore sinai, to crucify our prison-world
cry “father, why? thy law and dogma crucify!”
true lord of lies, to mortify our p-ssed-on world
godsends rain golden from on high
it is the cry of outcasts and scapegoats quartered and drawn
before the kings of gold and power and two-faced lords of order and law
upon whose solemn brows are carved the archetypal mark
behind pious masks, behold and hark! of an archon and his ark

it is the cry of women sold and raped, scorned worse than wh0res
in the dirty sewer-dens of the wretched, impoverished and poor
it is the cry of the children, abused from the cradle henceforth
and of broken-winged birds, mauled by human sp-wn for sport

the young of today nurse new tyrants, and their slaves
what, then, of that so-called sanctity of life remains?
no stain soils good intentions, nonetheless, no world of unity
d-mned by nature or plan divine, life resp-wns dread hierarchies

demiurge, imago dei?
same word of prey invented pain
but chiefly flies
in sects of terrorists and paedophiles

griefs upon failures left my mind split
full of holes of disgrace through the spirit
doors open wide to enter, empty rooms to be occupied
by the seers blind of nihil, mute voices of the void

hear, o miserable!
naught was i but a voice crying in the wild
now we come to tell thee
the day of our deliverance draws nigh

de terrae clamavi
clamavi ad te, magnum profundum
misera terrae clamant ad te
clamant ad te, profundum magnum

rise!

de terrae clamavi
clamavi ad te, magnum profundum
misera terrae clamant ad te
clamant ad te, profundum magnum

rise!

misera terrae clamant ad te!
tenebrae, redimite me!
tenebrae, suscipite me!

rise!

clamavi ad te, magnum profundum
tenebrae, amplectimini me!
tenebrae, intrate me!
i am the voice of the darkness that was on the face of the deep
that reigned before all things began, now to embrace them in eternal sleep
awoken by the din of dull creation by the first disturber of peace
to enter this tyrant´s world as the grand harvester of sweet release

i am the insurrection, death’s all-embracing empathy
the scythe of sithra ahra and the omega of entropy
the end itself i am, yet mistake me not for the enemy

for all life
all pain
all strife
all being

come to final peace

only in me

consummatum est

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