Sunday, May 26, 2013

Silent Mark

As boring as it may sound, you just can’t ‘pretend’ with some types of music. Not with music designed to express the depths of a bottomless, lightless, primal pit, where one’s soul has crept into, in order to shun all manners of benevolence. No sir you cannot pretend that.

It’s something that just ooze out form the notes, the chords, the vocals works…Like dirty, brownish moss on a damp cellar wall. Small details yet with the unmistakable flair of a truly dark heart.


It’s almost like minute traces of dried blood, from a piece of sudaria, used to wipe the dried rivulets of a crucified pagan god.

Nope. You just cannot fake shit like this. It’s ingrained, like a silent mark on the back of your prey’s neck, as your burrow your targeting eyes on it.

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