Instrumental
The journey on which your mind has set out of the body. Into the enfolding layers of tranquility. Eyes are claimed by the whirl that whispers. Drawn inexorably towards its’ centre. And so is the mind. Unearthly unfolding. As the looming circles permeate all that is the vortex descends.
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Carried away by this swirling momentum. Frozen in an incessant pattern. You are spiraling out of the world.
My mind oscillates between nothing and eternity. Reverberating consciousness. Offspring of entropy. Dependent origination. Void-spawned incarnation. Ascending from the depths of uncreation.
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Opening the eyes to the sights. Arising from the joy of void. Reflections, thoughts manifest. That never come to rest. Polychromatic blaze unfolds. A multitude of mirrored selves. Embodiment and recollection. Fracturing reality. There is nothing you will see. There is nothing to see. There is nothing you will see. As you try to perceive. There is nothing you will see. There is nothing to see. There is nothing you will see. As all emptiness is perceived. You will see.
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I close my eyes. Ceasing the visions. The world reflects itself through the gates. Into the shell which is me. There is nothing you will see. As all emptiness is perceived. You will see.
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I close my eyes. Ceasing the visions. The world reflects itself through the gates. Into the shell which is me.
Darkness, black. In th’eclipse distilled. Leaning to look if foot might pass down through that chasm. I saw beneath. As far as vision could explore. Looking as if just varnished o’er with that dark pitch, the seat of death. Throws out upon its’ slimy shores. A reservoir of darkness, black. As moon–drugs in th’eclipse distilled.
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Feeble creature, suffocating, choking, crying, reeling, dying. A cleansing metamorphosis shall sweep away my stupidity. Leaning to look if foot might pass down through that chasm I saw beneath. As far as vision could explore
the jetty sides. As smooth as glass.
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Looking as if just varnished o’er with that dark pitch. The seat of death throws out upon. A reservoir of darkness, black. As witches’ cauldrons are, when filled with moon-drugs in th’eclipse distilled. Leaning to look if foot might pass down through that chasm I saw beneath.
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As far as vision could explore. Slumber, watcher, till the spheres. Six and twenty thousand years. Have revolved and I return to the spot where now I burn. Other stars anon shall rise to the axis of the skies. The skies!
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Other stars anon shall rise to the axis of the skies. The stars that soothe. The stars that bless with the sweetest forgetfulness. Only when my round is o’er shall the past disturb my door.
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A reservoir of darkness, black. Darkness, black. As witches cauldrons.
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Words taken from ALCIPHRON by Thomas Moore ( 1779-1852 ), redacted by Ingurgitating Oblivion
Hast thine eye beheld yon enmity That dwells in ye Great Deep? Gazing into ye grand womb.
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Hence incising ye vapours that hover above. Why doest thou deify thine own ethereal stillbirth? Infidel thrall, thou art ye servant of incessant void
Thine potency is absorbed by ye barren plains of yon orbed soul-ruin. Doest thine masturbation by Stygian shores bring relief? Ye infamous chasm exhales dulcet symphonies thou cannot sense.
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Thus, thou perdition is infinite. Thou rapest thine innermost companion. And thine semen restrains thine. Poetry of the flesh. Doest thou transgress ye dreams from beyond?
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Thou rejoicest in thine glory obscured idea parts from ye incarcerated entity that writhes in physical dimensions. The Great Deep vomits forth yon ethereal foetus that makes ye angels weep. Doest thou desire to accept its’ eyes? Art thou willing to transfix ye dreams from beyond?
Thine disdain of ye transcendent symphony enslaves ye image of creation and thereupon bringest forth ye loss of paradise.
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Art thou ye one almighty besmeared with ye blood of all gods? Thine eye beheld yon enmity that dwells in ye Great Deep? Gazing into ye grand womb.
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Hence incising ye vapours that hover above. Thou divest into ye exhalations. To assume and inhale ye metrical lunacy that savest thee from ye immanent Stygian flood. Infidel thrall, thou art ye servant of incessant void.
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Thine potency is absorbed by ye barren plains of yon orbed soul-ruin
Ye infamous chasm exhales dulcet symphonies thou cannot sense. Thou divest into ye exhalations to assume and inhale ye metrical lunacy. That savest thee from ye immanent Stygian flood. Thou art interwoven with ye pulse beyond.
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Doest thou perceive ye desperate call from ye fathomless pits? Thine disdain of ye transcendent symphony enslaves ye image of creation and thereupon bringest forth ye loss of paradise. Art thou ye one almighty besmeared with ye blood of all gods?
Stars that soothe, stars that bless With a sweet forgetfulness. Other stars anon shall rise to the axis of the skies.
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Gazing towards this flickering light. Existence within a lie.
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Redacted lyrics based on Thomas Moore’s (1779 – 1852) Alciphron
Fade from stasis into disgust, misery and the cold light of dawn. My body breaks to blossoms blooming. The flowers of filth. Entangling roots winding deeper. Enter the womb, wound. Become the festering flesh of Mother Earth. Sinking deeper.
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The remains touching the bitter waters of rebirth. That which is left, leaving. Descend to the inmost darkness itself and beyond. Become the festering flesh of mother earth. Touching the bitter waters of rebirth. Crawling further towards the promise of an end. Exhale the soul and putrify. Flesh and spirit parting ways. Destination, emptiness.
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Where all creation resonates. Reunite with the current that streams below. Out, into the all-embracing vastness dark. Exhale the soul and putrify. Flesh and spirit parting ways. Destination, emptiness.
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Where all creation resonates. Thoughts arise like clouds of flies. From my corpse on which they dine. A swarming mass. As memories scream. Raving of the final dream. Escape the vicious ways. Into the waves. Permeate the sea of fate. Reunite with the current that streams below. Dissolve within the pulse.
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Throbbing perpetually in eternity. Lest the call of resurrection awakens us and we drown.
Gazing at this idol’s countenance – stern, lethargic – of divine voracity. Gaping at this senescent composition. An impromptu of the grand opacity.
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This downhearted godhead stares into nothingness. These eyes were carved to conceive interstices. That infix the essence of the element.
Emanating sectarian envy. Gazing at this idol’s countenance – vain, withered, decayed and defaced by conceit.
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Gaping at this decrepit composition – stone. Woven into the stifling air it breathes. Breathing finiteness, age, deceit. I vomit forth an imprecation of the incomplete. Cursing this ignoramus in his sacrilegious sleep. This imprecation of the incomplete curses the crippled face in its’ eternal sleep.
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Saviour clad in word made flesh turned into stone. Craving for souls to build a dismal throne. Shaped by the ravings of those lost in folly.
Dreams of the filthy to revel in purity. Thy gaze meets mine – the serpent uncoils. Behind the eyes worlds unfold. In this distorted dimension dominated by disease.
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I move in a multitude of colours and forms multiplex. In this raped unity devoid of ease. I masturbate upon the Divine – oblique, convex. A vibrant idea of freedom. Dreaded as the Great Beast. Indulging in blasphemous wisdom.
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Rejoices in the intellect’s feast. Rise above the misery. Rise above the scourge. Rise above the misery that heaven sent.
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I mock the grimace of this infidel nonentity. Clad in denial and masochistic vanity. In solemn posture frozen. Forlorn saint swathed in shadow. Unmoved eyes, petrified impotent monstrosity. An image of what is inexplicable, unveiled. Embodiment of lust to dominate. Dominate the profane.
After a hiatus of some years following the last full-length demo under the name of trees and orchids, Ingurgitating Oblivion finally conjured up Voyage towards Abhorrence. The Poetry of the Flesh demo tracks got re-recorded (in fact, Florian re-recorded the bass tracks and parts of the guitars) and the demo pieces were supplemented by two additional tracks. The album combines sludgy heaviness, doomy down-heartedness, blistering ferocity and snaky meanness. Voyage towards Abhorrence certainly was a turning point in Ingurgitating Oblivion’s history and was released by Unmatched Brutality Records / USA.
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This is fucking brilliant. It is easily the best technical Death Metal album I have heard since Gorguts left the scene. Fans of the aforementioned, as well as stuff like Cynic and Carcariass are going to want to track this down. I mean that. This is intelligent Brutal Death, with majesty and melody interwoven between its hammering riffs and rhythms, shrieks and growls. After a somewhat Kitaro-ish intro (that seemed to be disturbing almost in spite of itself), I was floored from the get-go with opener Spiralling Out Of The World. I played it probably three times before it all sunk in. This is how actual musicians might define brutality. (metal-rules.com)