1. |
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The stench of my unbirth, repulsive, to the core.
It roots into chasms, digging down into dirt.
Spreading my ethereal hands through concrete.
The rock, crumbles and cracks, the dawning of the black
The age of self occlusion, in abundance.
The cold, manipulation, of the path.
For this is not what we have come for
The cold embrace of isolation.
To breed a stark, unruley abandon,
On the grave of a mind once conceived of the strength to endure.
My resolve, my sense of self, will decay into an endless abyss
Surrounded by the shattered remains of all who fell before me
Dissolve, into dirt and ash.
Become the barren, broken wasteland.
Devoid, of all opulence.
Infested with the promise of ascending
To fall, from heights unseen
Distorts the fabric of understanding.
Consumed, by the obsession
Ravenous from the hunger, the desire to emerge
The stench of my unbirth, repulsive, to the core.
It roots into the chasms, digging down into dirt.
I become plagueborn, pestilence incarnate.
Corroding the everlasting. Unbound by, the weight of, affinity
Into dirt and ash.
Become the barren, broken wasteland.
Devoid, of all opulence.
Infested with the promise of ascending
I march, without expression or intent,
Yet cruelty and malice lie heavily in the wake.
The sickness swarms like a storm of locusts
Crowned in infection, baptised in the blood
For is this not what we have come for?
The cold embrace of isolation.
To breed a stark, unruley abandon,
On the grave of a mind once conceived of the strength to endure.
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2. |
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I am the truth untethered, I am the barrage of malcontent
Unleashed upon the faceless, decimated to dust and ash, undone.
Undying, ceaseless hail, of fire burning through the skin.
It melts through to the bone, scorched black and broken
Concede, to the excision. Be torn from the roots of your dead veins.
Dissolve, into omission. Immortalize the suppression from within.
Breathe in, the scent of weakness. Let the rage overcome the sense of self.
Bombard, the procession. Infest their fate with eternal death.
The opposition unheard, silenced underfoot.
The violating rhythms pulsate like waves and feed on desire.
Disharmonic and dissonant, shapeless malevolent contortions.
The dissentient screams in agony, swallowed by dogma designed
The spawn of the son, breed pestilence throughout the congregation and feed off the lamb
Concede, to the excision. Be torn from the roots of your dead veins.
Dissolve, into omission. Immortalize the suppression from within.
Breathe in, the scent of weakness. Let the rage overcome the sense of self.
Bombard, the procession. Infest their fate with eternal death.
I am the truth untethered, I am the barrage of malcontent
Unleashed upon the faceless, decimated to dust and ash, undone.
Undying, ceaseless hail, of fire burning through the skin.
It melts through to the bone, scorched black and broken.
Now. In death they shall persevere. The parasite will feast and consume us all
We all a fractured nation, fragmentation of all forms.
The weight of the oppression, will crush the will of all.
Swallowed by the corrupted marrow, chained to a primal silence.
Their ravenous indulgence will revert the planet, to an empty shell
The spawn of the son, breed pestilence throughout the congregation and feed off the lamb
Now. In death they shall persevere. The parasite will feast and consume us all
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3. |
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In time I begin, to feel an undulating drift.
Untethered from the center.
Waves of crashing rage scorch the throat of what was
Born from the drowning, baptism through pain
Pelagial descent, fill the lungs to the breaking point.
I scream aloud in silence, untold agony.
The violent lash of contortions crack and fracture the body
Crushed under the weight of a wordless malice
Broken and forgotten, all but calcareous
The depths of stagnation, a hopeless dissonance
In oceanic patterns
I am become,
null.
Pushed, beyond repair, forever aware, of the passing of time
Stuck, rooted in place, a construct of fear, complacent contempt
How long, Must I, Wallow, Aimless
Cheated, Stolen, rendered, adrift
Swallowed by the shifting tides
We are, reborn, with passive contempt
Vitriolic dependency
Eternal persecution
Barren, the days, they slither away
Suspended and frozen
Conscripted to this decay
Slave to a new day
Buried by uncertainty
Begin, a downward spiral
Feigning contentment, a fabricated peace
Consumed by redemption
A silent abyss, It swallows whole
But leaves a shell to wander
A lifeless husk, robotic.
Protected by an afflicting mask
Pray for the end.
One must awaken, we must Ascend
Our world to rend
Succumbed to the plague of the negligent
Pray for the end
A veil of black, draining the day
Our world to rend
Succumbed to the plague of the negligent
How long, Must I, Wallow, Aimless
Cheated, Stolen, rendered, adrift
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4. |
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Behold, it comes in swarms,
A black cloud of merciless morose
As the sky devolves into a vaporous flame, this aphotic abbadon devours a consciousness
Heavy with a vicious melancholy, sprawl thoughts offensive in decay.
Terror wrought of the bounds of infinity, born of inward dreaming.
I cannot escape this time, I am trapped in a wave of submission.
Chained to a broken husk, forgotten.
I endeavour to break my restraints.
Bury my hands into soil, that I may uproot the dormant resonance
Risen, discordantly woven,
Barren and bleak against a leering sky.
Clouds of madness from stratus to cirrus.
Looming forth, into the mind's eye
Apparent, in the throes of anguish,
The loathsome fury of abhorrent life.
Unending cycles of progressive strife
And strange mutations of undying light
I distort, slowly morphing, ground into dust
So frail, yet I will not subside
Chained to a broken husk.
I endeavour to break these restraints.
Bury my hands into soil, that I may uproot the dormant resonance
Behold, it comes in swarms,
A black cloud of merciless morose
As the sky devolves into a vaporous flame, this aphotic abbadon devours a consciousness
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5. |
Stain Of The Familiar
06:02
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I reached out and grabbed the sun,
Contort the light of all.
Bring down the life giver
And swallow it whole.
The destruction of oneself is a prime directive. Clouds of doubt, of guilt. Imposter.
Rain down a wash of pain and bathe in dreams of nothing.
As I contemplate the fire, the potential for rebirth, the embers sear the throat.
A reflux of actions, a burning penance spawned more of sorrow than anger
The days grow dark in the eclipse, they distort in the radiant collapse
Cold are the hands that bore the weight of the insufferable corpse of ilios
Born from ravenous silence, a spawn of alienation
Masked in abhorrent weakness, a shroud of suffocation
To rot in a void, untouched and ripe with decay.
My senses, grow accustomed, to the mouth of inhumanity.
Untouched by light and warmth my weakness laid bare for, all to see.
The stigma, the stain
Encompasses us all
Encompasses us all
Born from ravenous silence
A spawn of alienation
Masked in abhorrent weakness
A shroud of suffocation
As the sun is digested and the remnants forgotten
I fall, deeper, downward.
Into the slumber where the fever and the sickness grow stronger,
And I perish in a dreamless sleep
The destruction of oneself is achieved without question
The clouds, suffocate, the remains.
A stillborn dawn weighs heavy in the air.
A stain of the familiar
I reached out and grabbed the sun,
Contort the light of all.
Bring down the life giver
And swallow it whole.
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6. |
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So bleak, our descent. We shed our skin to conform.
A desperate plea to relent, this new shape I will adorn.
A concentrated collapse, undo the sinews the bind,
Us to the carcass inept. Reform the sickness sublime
We bare the shell of iniquity
Shattered bones grow blunt against the carapace
Suffocating within the bounds, unphased asphyxiation
Consuming coercion, oh so gluttonous.
The stench of death infests the lungs
A stark awakening from the slumber
The apogee of intent obscured from view
No solace, only contempt
We seek only rebirth.
Unfurl our doctrine.
Tear us from perdition.
Begin our nascent
Obsolescence from the onset.
Sentenced to degrade.
I repent in silence.
Hatred burns in slumber
Only the sun, beckons the dawn.
Spreading it's warmth, obscuring the void.
Lingering death, twisted without form.
Crowned in despair, unholy, undone.
We bare the shell of iniquity
Shattered bones grow blunt against the carapace
Suffocating within the bounds, unphased asphyxiation
Consuming coercion, oh so gluttonous.
The stench of death infests the lungs
A stark awakening from the slumber
The apogee of intent obscured from view
No solace, only contempt
We strive to purge this duress.
To ascend beyond indoctrination.
Forge a path devoid of sickness
Evolve towards absolution
My will, my own.
Through blood, through bone.
Unchained, reborn.
Revel in the fury, bathe in the scorn
We seek only rebirth.
Unfurl our doctrine.
Tear us from perdition.
Begin our nascent
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7. |
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8. |
Nex Internum
05:07
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The process of delving into a black abyss, is to me, the keenest form of fascination.
Inside this everlasting dark, the mind, once curious, now withers.
This conception of madness was the birth of death.
Those voices, thousands of screaming voices,
Clawing and tearing sanity asunder are replications of a dominant self.
The solitude of curious melancholia deemed too strong for life to persist.
A tortured, withering stigma remains.
The correlation of the mind's contents set in motion the coming of a dark age.
Pleasure is wonder, and I sought pleasure in the confines of the cortex.
Psychological trauma is an infliction of the powerless.
Now madness ensnares, love, innocence dies.
I have seen the dark universe yawning
Where the black planets roll without aim,
Where they roll in their horror unheeded,
Without knowledge, or luster, or name
From even in the greatest of horrors, irony is seldom absent.
I have seen the dark universe yawning
Where the black planets roll without aim,
Where they roll in their horror unheeded,
Without knowledge, or luster, or name
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Rotlaust Dublin, Ireland
Rotlaust is the multi-genred musical project of Ireland based musician and producer Jack Penders. Rotlaust, meaning “Rootless” in Norwegian, was created as an exercise in creativity, and conceived as a platform for all of Jack’s releases, encompassing multiple genres and styles of music. ... more
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I bought the digital version and after a few listens I realised I hadn't paid enough, so I bought the CD from Transcending Obscurity. Effing great.
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Ἡ εἰκών was an impressive debut, but way too short! Luckily, Ψευδομένη arrives to satisfy the urge for more of what made its precedessor hit hard and fast: some atmospheric moments (don't be deterred as this is still brutal, dissonant and disgusting to the core) and at the same time, J.L. is exploring longer tracks - e.g. my personal favourite - and implementing some cavernous lows. If there's one thing we can all agree on, it's most likely that this man refuses to stand still. What a pace!
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