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Ode to Despair

by Sjálfsmorð af Gáleysi

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Slevin
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Slevin What a magnificent lyricist and composer. A virtuoso in his art. Another poetic balance of Cimmerian shade and beauty. Blanketed with a Paralyzing fear and the angst of an infinite number of tortured souls in hell. A vortex of endless time whispering insanity between our breaths. Madness in its purest form, confronting, all encompassing. Favorite track: eighth seal.
bmurator
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bmurator Black / Death & Doom Metal from Iceland. This hurts! One listen & I feel the urge to run for my life! Then I realise it is just the incredible skill Gunnar has of creating just the right mix of fear & fantastic music & vocals! Highly recommended!!!
Hayduke X
Hayduke X thumbnail
Hayduke X This one-man project from Iceland produces another dissonant masterpiece. This EP features his most restrained, and yet strongest work to date. The thread of darkness slowly unravels throughout the six tracks, becoming more and more patiently unhinged. The void creeps ominously ever closer. Favorite track: eighth seal.
YomaBarr
YomaBarr thumbnail
YomaBarr There's a greyish blue abyss from which oneiric plants and fungi grow, inhabited by weird animals.
There's a glass bridge across this pit. Will you dare step on it? Will you dare walk in through?

Sonic imagination of the man behind this is beyond mortal human comprehension. He doesn't make music, music comes to him at his will whimpering and with its tail down. And he makes it serve with this iron logic, turning it into a thing of uncanny, unearthly, haunting beauty.

So far EP of the year.
more...
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1.
empty 01:45
2.
no rest 03:13
3.
eighth seal 08:07
4.
hrah 04:30
5.
skies 06:18
6.
. 02:42

about

DISCLAIMER: All my albums were "name your price", but I have finished my Bandcamp download quota. Guess I'm too popular. I am therefore forced to set a price for all my albums, but I will set the prices very low for you guys.

---

They said there'd be no rest for the wicked
They promised us, for we are righteous,
Green hills and blue skies,
If not in this life, then in the next.

They gave us lies, so vivid,
That we could almost conjure them into existence,
Through faith alone.

Yet, what was promised has not been delivered.
But we stride toward it,
Grasping at thin air,
Which appears more solid than the ground we stand on.

Now you see,
There is no rest for the righteous,
While the wicked sleep without a care.
While the wicked sleep without a care.

---

A new horror rises, a crown of gold lifted upon his head. A pale visage with cold, piercing eyes, penetrating the soul, dragging it down in unwavering, merciless wrath. Given by some but taken by others, life is his name.

Decadence, depravity, scourge of the realms beyond the great beyond. Hidden from mankind, crawling among the rodents and snakes, the abomination that dwelled within your spirit all along, since the dawn of the first night consumed your very essence and incorporated you into its own being.

Corruption, calamity, a new era of sorrow and repulsion, their nostrils filled with fragrance of their own rotting flesh as they plunge themselves deeper into the heart of their own demise. And there they remain, until death calls on them to free them from their mangled carcasses, delivering unto them corporeal abstractions, until they themselves detach, left to ponder and excogitate.

Feast upon your own mortal flesh, feast upon blood drawn from your veins, upon the repugnant vessel which carries your breath, and know that each one you draw brings you one closer to your final one.

Cursed brethren, malignant souls whose blood poisons the very air you so callously breath, ever wandering in darkness, raising your torches, the light from which succeeds only in casting its shadow on your most treasured moments.

Fear not, for you shall never have to face your own mortality, fear not, for all will be over before you realize what has been lost. Falling deeper into the uncaring abyss, your body wanders soulless, the pain piercing through your heart, as it binds you in hateful bliss, and know, that before long the agony becomes a welcome sight.

The earth shatters, and with it your disillusionment, with it the fragments of your dreams drift slowly, and without notice, into obscurity, the rotting, putrefying remains of your venomous existence guiding you further into realms infected with malignancy and terror. And still, death smiles at you beneath its caring and inviting guise.

Let the veil of sanity be lifted from your eyes, let yourself be suffocated with unspoken phrases of malicious contentment. Do not fear death, for it does not fear you! And be not deceived by life's dazzling light, for it casts none on you, and serves only to blind and betray in self-perpetuating conceitedness.

Drift away, let the threads of time's relentless fabric weave your mind and spirit into its own, until you are nothing but a memory, and thereafter, remembered by none, lost and forgotten, even by time itself. And when all traces of your existence are erased, finally, peace awaits.

Feed your mind with novel lies, dwell within your own illusions, a mere mirage brought forth by hypocrisy and phantasm of noble cause. To face the murky, elusive and cryptic nature of one's own harrowed conscience is to awaken from a great slumber, and wish to sleep for eternity. Truth, your greatest and most ancient nemesis spares none.

Ere darkness devours the light within them, they will shriek in vain as the looming night envelops the palaces they've built, the castles on which countless hours rest, but they shall never set foot within, for the truth will send them into fits of unending madness and devouring rage, until they are free from thought itself, unbound by sanity's chains - For the truth has set them free.

Plagued by whispering voices, gentle streams of mystic, soothing, yet ravenous desires, no escape from the scaffold that binds together their internal scapes. A humble utterance, feverishly enswathes the weary and the beaten. Utterly opposed by all that is hallowed, a soothing, sinking doom awaits their arrival.

Silenced by the waving of an invisible hand, hollow and scattered among the bitter landscapes that soon become home to their dusted remains, amidst the scarlet rivers that flow through every man, woman and child, a constant, ominous reminder of mortality. An intrusive, haunting countenance, one last grand gesture of revelation, if only they had wisdom to embrace it.

Sacred, or damned, it matters not, all that is and ever will be is forged within a bottomless chasm beyond perceptual space. And as the blows that land upon the anvils of their suffering pound and beat, their graves await their presence with impatient delight. Visit them promptly, let them wait no longer, thine tomb lies vacant, let a last breath be drawn, and do not mourn life lost. Know that the dark and plentiful, yet gentle, merciful abyss welcomes and embraces all who seek rest.

---

I am the fifth horseman
Whose name no living soul dares utter.
But with their last breath,
The martyrs whisper my name.

The seventh seal has been opened,
Still, the angelic trumpets
Are drowned in screams of agony!

The seals are broken,
All suffering comes to an end,
And with it all life.
For that which is doomed to live
Is doomed to despair.

Come ye, witness the Lamb,
Witness the one who is worthy.
Witness it led to the slaughter.

Behold, the white horse,
Behold, the crown placed upon him.
A Parthian king, saw Babylon in ruins,
And revelled in glory among its burning remains.

My mount darker than the abyss
From whence it came, my everlasting presence deprives of all hope and they tear the skin from their limbs with their bare hands.

Oh, ye so ignorant!
Could you not see?
Did you all avert your eyes?

For there is an eighth seal,
One who cannot be broken,
Neither by man nor God itself.

The final seal shall be opened by the fifth rider
Bringing forth the ever staring beast,
One who gazes into the abyss,
And the abyss dares not gaze into him.

We shall summon him,
And with him an army,
We will march to Jerusalem!
And bring ruin upon the pious!

We precede and foretell of rotting flesh
And lifeless veins!

Hear me, Jerulasem!
Hear me, five great Emperors!
Ones whose power reaches past
The edges of the dunes of the vast desert,
Which you yourselves dare not cross.

We know of your deceit!
We know, and bring you pestilence.
We care not for your excuses,
We care only to draw power
From your contaminated veins!

You shall all hear my name before you depart
Drowning in a pool of swallowed tears!
The four shall rule a fourth of the Earth!
And I shall rule the rest!

We will make this life a horrific, treacherous dream!
From which the only escape is waking up,
And there is but one way to wake up from life!

credits

released April 12, 2020

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Sjálfsmorð af Gáleysi Iceland

Icelandic solo project.

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