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I saw you in decay on the path of Fomalhaut as a shapeless and slimy heap, heavily chained, on the throne of shame and scorn. I could have avoided you and have bypassed you for leagues but those who go through the path of Fomalhaut blinded by it, straight from the awakening, can only think you're pitiful but so beautiful in agony. I contemplate what I've blamed for my entire life. Beware of him, told those who turned away, his appearance is contemptible as the life he once led. Beware of his limitless trick. His place shall remain the same. What have you got to say while you can still talk? How could you, you cursed, take such a sincere path? «I wanted to go to Fomalhaut as you did. I heard its call so clearly. I always hear it. Unbroken promise. My destiny was to go there. Then I saw myself prisoner of these chains. My double begged for my help. I took his hand... My heart and what remains of me. Everything's cold like this infinite blackness. Go on your way, you're not the one I expect. You will be tired of this world and the time will come when you will loathe it forever because this world is made for me. He's waiting for only me. When you'll run away hopeless, when an eternity will be fully over, whatever the path you'll take, I will be right in the middle. You will hardly see me cause despair will have blinded you. Tu n'auras été qu'un lâche et un faible, une chose insignifiante. Tu fonceras droit sur moi encore. Tell me what you saw there. Il y a sûrement un dessein pour ceux de notre espèce. I'm your only meeting in this eternal night. There will be justice for you too. Soon you will sit in my place. You will never find peace.» I saw you in decay on the path of Fomalhaut. During my race, you caught all my thoughts. Why do I take pity on you? Why do you sit so vile in the middle of the most beautiful path? How can you desire such a sincere way? Is your destiny sealed to mine in this arid and cruel region? Have we met before? What unworthy life has brought us together? «Aucun monde n'est pour nous. Nos attentes sont vaines. La pierre glacée et les chaînes et tous ceux qui s'en détournent.»
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2. |
Le Prologue
06:29
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Nearby the last defence, chasing an undetectable origin, tracing the thread of his existence, devouring his own trail, The Prolog is lost. Drown in the aeons of his past lives. The old hated time speeds, the new worlds are rejected. Cursing the infernal swirls, his remnants grow and his release goes away. The paths, the goals to achieve, converge on his stamps, irradiating the end of time. All roads have been shown from the genesis to the edge. In a bound he could correlate the worlds. A fervent eye towards each of them. The other, tormented, towards the core on which he fixed his will. He followed the voice blown by chaos on this ravaged path, les méandres de ses vies oubliées. A black sphere smitten with torment released The Second, led to The Prolog by obsession. The absolute need to grasp the elusive with just a key for many locks. Rooted in the insignificant life and wanting to bind everything to it. «I will stay here, waiting for you all. His quest is in vain, he will get lost. I am The Alpha, I am The key, The One who carries hope on your wings.» Affected by this connection, The Prolog took flight, sowing the depths born from confusion to remain inaccessible. The Second, novice, won't follow. He will stop on the worlds to see the line arise, fluttering with obsession. Despite the momentum and the distance, the framework that never ends, makes off to The Prolog and through it, he looks for his goal.
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3. |
Traitor
06:09
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Once again a heart was beating. I hammered my chest, raging against this echo which had no reason to be. Darkness was loitering about. The worried stars in the vast sky field were ending their round around my poor past. To contemplate some clouds to calm down my rejected soul. A storm inside me swept away all hope. My eyes are rolling under the stars race. No clues, no consolation. It was raining on my face through. I was ready to offer myself, to embrace his chosen shape. I was laid down by physical pain. I had breathed my last. I had lived my last life. But the approaching horizon, a black oscillating mountain range under the absurdity of the sky, splitted this redemption place. A repulsive crack by which the threat poisoned hope. He appeared, devoted, in the middle of the sky. Humiliating the defenses of the night, biding its motor depths, mutilating its innocent features. Around him, the chasm had been formed, throwing up the thick blackness of an unavowed space, poured to my feet. From his city, he walked to me and pressed his face on mine. Silence and reverence from his being. The fear of sacrifice was vanishing. In chorus we repeated our wishes. Time and space collapsed on us. The completion of so many sacrifices. But a heart started again. Ce cœur n'avait pas lieu d'être. Suis-je le seul coupable ? I've always been faithful. Lying on the highway full of help and chaos, I hammered my chest against this heart which had no reason to be. Guts of wind and rain squalls, from the depths of the faded sky, carried to me the voice of the punishment. You had everything planned, you are the only guilty. At the rate of this heart, this word stabbed me : « Traître »
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4. |
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The bones were crushed, reduced to ashes, scattered into the abyss of Haj-Hjem-H..., the crater of the fall of the last moon of sleep, after its eleven thousand years dismantling. The violent seasons of Duld discharged their rains for a century. Its worst drought never gave thirst to the tombstone. The waters never ended to hush up the secret of The Second's recall at the beginnings of his memory. Barely disappeared, he forgot himself, plunging into an impossible goal, erased by many formless lives, The Guide had unfortunately failed. The last of the Maluteun circle, exasperated by dreams, were drowned into Haj-Hjem-H... to get lost on his traces. Guided by Obsession he devours darkness and sows his memories. Ses fanatiques enfiévrés peignent son sillage. La pierre s'effrite, la toile brûle et horrifiés ils se crèvent les yeux. On the altar of the resurrection the Silver Crack rejected the moldy remains of destiny but there was nothing left to contemplate. Around, the fanatics deplored a promise of return. They sighed in delirium The Exchange with The Prolog. L'espèce Hédotone s'éteignit avec ce Cercle. Seule une poignée de ses spectres sillonnaient vers la Bordure, sans retour. Il fut admis par le rêve commun que le Guide avait choisi de fuir notre passé pour se tourner vers son futur, comme si déjà il était remonté aux origines et s'en était détourné, désabusé. Plus rien n'avait de valeur à ses yeux, pas même sa propre espèce. Crushed bones, reduced to dust. The abyss of Haj-Hjem-H... Nothing makes sense anymore.
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5. |
Le Rituel Du Double
05:45
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Ego is dashed. The flesh pouring out of shame, from effervescent cuts, is vibrating under the jets of salts. On the other side of the flames, the reflection is twisting and inveighing. «Be infallible once in your life.» The stars will testify, Piscis Austrini will speak in their names when the Double will find again, from the saving cave, the great continuous flow, dimensional synthesis. «Come now it's time, while the flames are dancing.» Our hands are smoking and tearing above the burning hearth. A pain offered to the Smuggler, a stigma for the Guarantor. The overflow of darkness in me made me exempt from the sentence. The Smuggler was formed in the fire and stood impassive above his crystals. The Double, docile, coveted with avidity, the stick was heavily hitting the sand. While you were seeing the arrival, the fire was tasting your melting flesh. You left this place without looking back while the flames were still dancing. So the Smuggler talked to me and the shaman smiled because your reflection was admiring his hand. The sand was thrown into the fire, the cave that will never light up for you. «Tu crois t'être débarrassé de ton fardeau, tu te crois invincible maintenant ? Ton témoin n'avait rien à faire ici, un jour tu devras t'en débarrasser.» As far as you'll walk in the night, your eyes of fire will never lose and your Double who rubs shoulders with death will always be closed at hand. Piscis Austrini, je t'invoque. Rends mon fardeau. Mes yeux ont vu. Je veux être en paix.
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6. |
The Aversion Of The Past
05:53
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I was free, escaped from this asylum. Its long corridors enclosing the night. Its four shaky and insulted walls, the bricks loose and corroded, by the sweating threat, infected to the roots, the brewing oppression... It was over. A red sun soared. The sunset was on fire. I sloshed the calcined grass to the edge of the cliff. Below, you almost spread yourself in ashes. Your fall, like a thunder trail, divided time. I could not decide to chase the cutting and cowardly past, piercing blindness and depression of artificial long nights. So much disgust to know our blackened skulls side by side. So many regrets for not having faced the threat that filtered and rushed from wall to wall.
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7. |
Aube Dernière
05:31
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Grandfather teach me, how do you dream? Talk to me Grandpa, you are not old, you lie! «My boy, you never wanted. My boy you’re not built for this. Why now? I can see that nothing has changed, nothing!» You think I don’t see you Grand’pa. I can read in your eyes and feel in me your power from the beginning. Please, now I see you and I believe you! «My child I will leave. What I learned, I learned alone and the last secrets appeared to me. I will leave you at dawn.» I will be alone Grandpa! What I will become? «Yes, loneliness is essential and yes, this is my only lesson. You will be nothing and you will be scared. A saving fear.» Je regrette tant Grand-père. Pardonne-moi. Emmène-moi ! Je ne veux pas mourir ici ! «Aucune importance à te pardonner. Vide ton coeur, fais une place immense. À l’aube, je serai parti. À l’aube, si tu vois, peut-être tu auras compris.
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Drowning in Chaos Records Saint Omer, France
Extreme Metal Label founded in 2022 and located in the North of France.
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