1. |
Genesis
05:58
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The start of a cycle
Hatred leads you to curse my very name
I am warped
Deformed
Undeserving
Everyday you shun me
My hatred for you swells
I am celibate
None can bear to look upon my twisted form
I’m kept a pet
Servant for a master of arcane deeds
I watch him and learn of old gods
Gods who demand tribute
That feed on the darkest place in your heart
You can’t bear to gaze upon them
But I look them in their eye
They say I am worthy
That I can live forever
That I will never sleep
That I will never die
That all you have is truly mine
I take it freely now
You bend your knee
You fear my wrath
The power of my gods brings sacrifices to me
The blood of your sons
The fruit of your daughters
They belong to me
And even when you rise up, dare ask another to strike me down
I simply smile
I am not dead
I do not sleep
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2. |
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First birth of the Revenant
A walking husk with no remorse
Rises from its sepulchre
Pale faces of the council
Strangled by candlelit rope
A sacrifice to him
A village burns
Orange embers reflect on rotting flesh
Blood tribute from your elder sons
Slit wrists pour sanguine wine
To fill the chalice of Abhartach
First death of the Revenant
Pierced through the heart with silver spear
But Abhartach he never sleeps
He never stops
Slain captain of the guardsmen
Last elision in a fevered dream
Death rattle in the red evening
By outpost trees
A village burns
Orange embers reflect on rotting flesh
Blood tribute from your elder sons
Slit wrists pour sanguine wine
To fill the chalice of Abhartach
He never sleeps
He never stops
He never sleeps
He never stops
He never sleeps
He never stops
He never sleeps
He never stops
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3. |
Excursion of Cathrain
03:22
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A third ceremony to bury the Tyrant
How long his cursed remains stay dead I do not know
But I must leave this place and seek wisdom alone
No light to guide me
No scout to show my way
Beyond the meadow, and to the west
They say that ancient wisdom can be found
Heavy rainfall
Thunder in the distance
Wet grass underneath hoofs
I ride alone
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4. |
A Grave of Thorns
04:48
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5. |
Remission
06:33
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You will never know peace, sons of Cathrain
My physical manifestation is not all I am
I am the fear that grips your cold lonely heart
This is but one incarnation
What of your sword
That banishes me from this realm
No matter what I’ll always come back
No sacred yew, nor blessed enchantment
Will get rid of me
This is only remission
The gods I serve still demand tribute
Your sons will make their own
Blood sacrifices in the night
They’ll pick up their knives and slit
Their own wrists
Their blood will flow freely
My lords feed off your misery
When you think you have found peace
The terror will return
More sleepless nights spent in cold empty beds
No lover to cradle you
No spell of protection to ward off evil spirits
Just you alone in the night
I never sleep
I never stop
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Neamh-mharbh recommends:
The Ancient Rite
by Where The Crows Gather
The debut record of 'And...Darkness Follows' by Ben Merlin Wilkinson can be found here. It is great.
go to album
A side project of one of the two members of Neamh-mharbh, which also features Ben Merlin Wilkinson of 'And...Darkness Follows'
go to albumIf you like Neamh-mharbh, you may also like:
Umbras de Barbagia
by Downfall of Nur
supported by 10 fans who also own “Neamh-mharbh”
After listening to Ysyry Mollvün, listening to Downfall of Nur was urgent and turned out to be one of the best decisions I have made in quite some time: Umbras de Barbagia is simply magisterial; the atmosphere can hardly be compared to anything else. There is a deep, palpable connection to nature imbueing each very fibre of this record. The amalgamation of black metal and folk elements is done with a high intuition for detail and class, resulting in a highly immersive experience. Wonderful.
go to album
supported by 10 fans who also own “Neamh-mharbh”
Литоургиiа réussit l'impensable : faire entrer le black metal dans l'église orthodoxe. S'il y a une dimension dramaturgique (indissociable de tout office religieux), Литоургиiа reste profond, solennel et touche le sublime. Après la sortie de cet album a lieu un Grand Schisme et un larcin : Христофор se fait dépouiller de son propre groupe par Барфоломей et Мартин ; tout ce qui reste ici provient de ces deux hérétiques. Suivez la procession de Батюшка ici : https://sphieratz.bandcamp.com/album/-
go to album
Where Birds Sing My Name
by Twilight Fauna
The latest from Twilight Fauna balances suffocating black metal with moody tone poems & skipping Americana.
go to album
Folk music that reaches to the past, connecting to yesteryear while unearthing primordial magic.
go to album
