Of Stone, Wind, and Pillor

...It was not long ago when I had fallen from this mortal world, Lost in dream flight to pierce the horizon as a bird... Is this life the pillor I must bear? To grow in this wretched world? ...with hate each day I burn... The birds above, they ride the winds And from each piercing talon dangles a soul The stone awaits my fall Upon a grave I dug myself The birds sing their requiems Please lend me your wisdom to fly above the heavens, Across seas of gold, to my land of frostbitten, ageless night Let me dig my own grave Let me, oh precious noose of mine You are my mother, whose womb around my neck Grants me a world of cold nihility An endless winter night A bitter, black frozen hell For me Forever! Is this the pillor I must bear? To die on this fucking world? ...with hate I die and burn... The birds above, they caress the winds They lend me the wisdom to fly...

Submitted by MetalElf — Apr 22, 2025

This track is instrumental.

Is this song not instrumental?

This track is instrumental.

Is this song not instrumental?

Sumer is icumen in! Arise! Arise! Give us our bread and bury our dead And kneel to the cross on the wall Whether burnt at the stake or drunk at the wake Just kneel to the cross on the wall We've original sin, but we might just get in If we beg to the cross on the wall It's love your neighbours and rattle your sabre But kneel to that cross on the wall See the roof fall, hear the bells crash As flesh and bone turn to ash Tried to conquer the sun with a Christian frost The corpses' stench beneath the cross Give them gold and they'll save your soul And kneel to the cross on the wall Hail to the boss of the great unwashed And kneel to the cross on the wall They wail and weep, the march of the sheep As they go to the cross on the wall And it's ever so wrong to dare to be strong So kneel to the cross on the wall And it's ever so wrong, to dare, to be strong But sumer is icumen in! Arise! Arise!

Submitted by Pestilence — Nov 07, 2025

The brawling of a sparrow in the eaves, The brilliant moon and all the milky sky, And all that famous harmony of leaves, Had blotted out man's image and his cry. A girl arose that had red mournful lips And seemed the greatness of the world in tears, Doomed like Odysseus and the labouring ships And proud as Priam murdered with his peers; Arose, and on the instant clamorous eaves, A climbing moon upon an empty sky, And all that lamentation of the leaves, Could but compose man's image and his cry. [Lyrics from poem "The Sorrow of Love" by William Butler Yeats]

Submitted by The Void — Apr 22, 2025