WEAPON LYRICS

1. Archana

Devout icon glows in skin,
Libel swept, beyond reason.
Menstrual-blood anointed flesh,
Parasitic mortal vision.
Silhouette boiling deep scars,
Celestial, blind devotion;
Open the gates to pure death,
Archana, inferi, libation.

Non-secular seed - Flame of All,
Compelled within her chalice.
Mongrel design of human error,
Foreshadow of extinction.
To reach beyond the grand scope
Of cosmic manifestations,
No mortal coils, no covens of hope
Cathartic decay: salvation.

Instinct of morbid traits - death-worship,
Souls that live bound to the ropes of His Dharma.
Spiritual Shamshan path - flame seeker!
Belong to the halls, temples of Archana.

To walk an elemental path,
To descent the vessels of excess;
Wisdom from an ethereal source,
Veneration, sacrament of faith.
'Tis a blind man that walks afar,
Oblivious, strays the realms of bliss.
What pleasures we do attain!
Embraced by the Serpent's kiss.

In a dark, red corner of the human mind,
A raven unveils a poignant sign:
"As feathers append to the fog of decay,
Samskaara ascends, the Sun concaves."

2. Para Bhakti... Salvation

Reveal those cut veins - the mark of an open Eye.
Angelic Stigmata, malicious reek of Swine.
The Devil; he hands me a blade to unearth flesh.
A portal of faith lit our path - euphoric end.

Pilgrims bleeding.
Devil worship.

The ruler of earth & All beckons for servitude.
A sordid poison breeds the flame beneath the shroud.
If the pulse of the Beast defies the confines of the cosmic walls,
Does that not then make us the conduits of Pralaya?
Reverence for dogma at a point of mortal end.
Garnered by scripture, pillars of mass command.
In the wake of all healing the Swine doth feel contempt?
The chasm ignites to the rapturous Bhakti-chant.

The Pulse opens the gates.
Towards infinite skies.
Dur-athma & Pralaya.
Chaos-Chakra rise.
Hear the Serpent's chant?
The Darkness is but one.
Flame of vortex black.
Crimson Eye of SATAN.

Akshara-pathra heart.
Dur-athma poison wind!
Absolute deliverance.
Embrace the Fire within.
Falacious womb of Eve
Deep scars of rust and scorn.
Blood of the cremation grounds.
Soil of the Fire-born.

Parched and distraught, (yet) consecrated by His words.
Dance of the mordant, towards the starless realm.

Break the chains of hope, cut the throbbing vein.
Fill this chalice with death, demise is salvation.

Para Bhakti...Salvation.







WEAPON LYRICS