Month: June 2019

An Inquest into the Legacy of the God Seed Bloodline

The eternal bloodline of the covenant beckons all lost souls to this salvation. Come, ye forbearers of the dark realms, come unto this apocalyptic landscape. Death seeks you in this clarion cinema of soul. Toiling hard, did you seek the wealth strewn in the abyss, soaked with blood? There, you see the tears of blood gently coming down by the eyes of a crucified corpse. You can see the insects infesting the hollow that once were one so dear to your heart. Feel that blood as the sacrifices sought.

An ominous predicament

The altars of this unforgiving realm must keep paying. The great emptiness of the coffin must claim the fated ones. The machine must turn and keep turning, for the show must go on. This eternal battleground of the harvest of flesh keeps seeking the dark freedom of the Lord. That day, when the sun will turn dark as in night and the moon shall bleed ominous. A day of terror and love is waiting to become.

The raging inferno of the cathedral reminded the dark warriors of the glory of Him. That seething rage of eons also seeks the ashen peace of the end. As the flames compete to leap higher and higher, let the infernal glow illumine the dark truth. Will there be any papal inquest to this event? Perhaps there is one, a Judgment that is underway for ages.

The Command of the Reverse Cross

Who can face that sword coming down? Hail to thee, O Great destroyer, the King of Horror. Come, come ye mighty warriors of this cult of death. Gather in these hallowed plains for the great slaughter to commence. The dark agents of these lowlands can smell the blood in the air. It is a thing to fear. Do you find it hard to carry through? Whose debts do you carry? What makes you heavy? Tormented by the grip of flesh, the scream sears into those feeble hearts, hiding beneath the denial of death. Let the truth brand the debts of death on them, gripped in an inevitable frenzy.

In this devastating dream, seeking some kind of a form, you can hear those whispers. You wake up in the middle of a nightmare, tormented by what can never be. Looking for answers, you must know whom to blame. A crucified messiah cannot save himself. Ah, the torment that came down is purifying. The blood of carrying betrayal spurted like infernal paintings with each swish of the whip endured. Stand strong on your ground and carry your cross. Speak, shout, and scream of the pain of knowing the truth all the time.

What remains now is that long night to behold by the crackling woods at the hearth. How many times did you ever wish that this night to never end? Wandering in this misty wood of underworld, are you the one who waited for the dawn, suppressing the curses under your lips? Seek your place in this landscape in the legacy of God Seed bloodline. The seed planted becomes a tree, nurtured with blood, sweat, and potion from rotting carcasses.

Music of a thirsty night

Let not the surreal overtone baffle you to believe that it means nothing. You know that there can be nothing more real than the music that holds you to your place. To realize who or where you really belong, and then to fortify that sense of belonging, that is how you know that it is true. It is that surge of blood and debt that must come through. Is the violence only apparent? It can as well be a shrewd ploy to conceal the fears of doom. Then again, the concealed and denied are but the hardest realities of a reversed truth, the order of the Antichrist dictates. As the pale evening wanes into a thirsty night, let the musical horses run into that place where the bravest of the bravest come face to face.

Demons are always personal, friends of the revengeful, they are. Who are you then?  Perched high on the wings of dark tunes, you get to know if you are one of flesh or one of the Dark Soul. Those dark chains can hold only the ones who denied their debts. There, even there is the price that must come through by the sacrificial blood. The laws governing these realms are merciless in execution.

The Lord sets them to place, engraves them onto the heart of His lost sons and daughters. The bloodline of the covenant must redeem this great payment. Even the ones put to task received forgiveness. The firmament wept in blood rain when the cross was put up on Golgotha. The scream that went up tore the fabric of trust adorning him once. Now crucified, the blood seeped through the wood into the dark ground. There was that story only the seers and prophets could comprehend. An anecdote suppressed into the night with deception waits to unfold as the ancient blood thirst reveals once again, in music yet unheard.

 

Taken Deep inside Blood Churning Black Metal Darkness

Job 1:7English Standard Version (ESV)

7 The Lord said to Satan, “From where have you come?” Satan answered the Lord and said, “From going to and fro on the earth, and from walking up and down on it.”

It is cold brothers. Dark Crusaders of the eternal Armageddon, can you feel that chill? Somewhere obscured inside that misty grey realm of the Lord, you, who found no peace in vanity, are welcome. Let your heart bleed hard for the unsaid truth screaming without respite, for the Lord seeks your surrender. There is the weeping of the fated. Oh, who can endure that unforgiving torment but the dark grace of hard repentance! Every scream resonates with the horrors of death eternal, music to seek the Lord. What did you find? Lined with the hollow of skull eyes, enter into the pyramid, for the silence beckons you. As the chill sets like hoarfrost, worship, worship the majesty of Satan with all you have. Cry, cry with your might, may He kindle the fire with embers from burning bones. It is cold brothers; it is cold.

Ashen Reminders 

Remember how you bled? Revenge, you say, but who is to blame. This grave sadness seeping into the veins from the cold ground freezes the feet. Move forward. Leave the futility of living an unforgiving existence, o, who can feel really? All these stories to share, the unsaid darkness, beware traveler for you are in Hell. This is where you belong. Look around in this great vault of mortal remains, lined by skulls and the ones impaled by His judgment. Can you see the bony phalanges pointing to the underground? Can you feel the steps painted black with sacrificial blood? Come down into the antechamber of execution, and see. See with your own eyes the pain of the bloody cross, of a forsaken Messiah. O, who can feel the pain but the ones baptized with blood? Have you no heart, but a hollow? Seek and seek your lost soul, perhaps you may redeem. Is not the Lord benevolent? Who is to blame?

The Eternal War

The sword, brothers, wield the sword. Whose blood do you seek to dispel on the altars? Whose blood pays the price of freedom? Are you grateful to your enemy? Warrior of the Unholy, brethren of the Inverted Cross, see the rain hissing as she kisses the eternal burning sulfur in this realm of the crestfallen. Implore the rain to come down in torrents. Let the funerals begin. Let the sorrow bestow the feelings that you try so hard to forget. That great snake, did you just feel Him above you? You are in the underground, finding your way out of into the cathartic darkness. Ah, trample them rats scurrying about, itching to severe pieces of flesh for they think nothing of survival. Somewhere in this vault, there is a key that unlocks the gates of lava waiting to envelop this forsaken graveyard. There is also the sonic key to that place of hard repose, where you finally find the answers you sought always. You got to pay with blood.

See around, warriors of the Great Darkness. These chambers of tortured souls testify to the sufferings of the cross. They narrate cold hopelessness, condemned by the judgment of Him, who brought this cursed world to be. Who could escape the sword that came down when there was no pity to feel? In those last vestiges of dreadful sorrow, from love to mercy, and from mercy to pity, those last scream of the doomed are still here. Hear them, let your heart bleed. Are you ready for the sacrifices sought from you? Who did not repent? Who did repent truly, crossing the dark heart to the forsaken tune of the graveyard? As the dead raised themselves, the leprous Lazarus pleaded. O God, why did you abandon me? Lying down in the tomb of the necromancers, those who wait to be alone like thieves in the cemetery, who sees you when no one does? Brothers, you who returned with memories of the Glorious Kingdom, hail, hail the banners of victory! Stand true, for death oversees your fate. This is Black Metal.

This is real. You feel it in your bones. The life that gives is the death that takes. The friend who stands strong is not the one who does not belong to the band. Set the crosses and arrange the stakes, for a doomed Messiah must face the truth. The one who bled and the one who paid his price with blood, the vault carries the stories of all.  Everyone and everything belongs to Him. Who can question Him who puts a noose through the nose of the dragon? Who hurled the spears unto the monster beneath the blood moon? The rain fell in torrents. The music played on and on inside the dark forest.

 

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