You need flash!
no cover -  

The Repellent Scars of Abandon and Election - Deathspell Omega

The Repellent Scars of Abandon and Election

FAS - Ite, Maledicti, in ignem Aeternum
black metal Avant-Garde Black Metal epic progressive black metal Orthodox Black Metal

Deathspell Omega is a French black metal band formed in 1998. Their lyrical content deals primarily with Satanism on a metaphysical level – as the band has stated that "all other interpretations of Satan are intellectually invalid" – and other various theological topics. From 2004 to 2010, they released a series of three concept albums which focus on the theological aspects of God, Satan and man's relationship with the two. Some of their lyrical inspiration has come from the post-surrealist Georges Bataille as well as existentialist themes. Show more ...

The Repellent Scars of Abandon and Election - Deathspell Omega

The feeling of destroying the capacity for inward peace, an insane dance
With the angels of innocence amidst thorns and in frenzy, the warmth of
A divine blessing, a daringness which prevailed over any imaginable fear
Hovering on the brink of a voluntary act of contrition, but soon all pales
Besides the cry this shattering truth wrests from all fellow men, there is
More to it than suffering and sounds of suffering, it is a process that only
The extinction of a divine soul could terminate. The eye can outstare neither
The sun, nor death... If I sought God it was in delirium and in the delight of

The idea of Salvation comes, I believe, from one whom suffering breaks
Apart. He who masters it, on the contrary, needs to be broken, to proceed
On the path towards the rupture.

Nothing of what man can know, to this end, could be evaded without
Degradation, without sin, - is it no burden to bear the repellent scars of
Abandon, of election?- it leaves but a state of supplication and deserted
Expanses, an absorption into despair. The existence of things cannot enclose
The death which it brings to me; the existence is itself projected into my
Death, and it is my death which encloses it. Am I deranged? Over and above
Quietism! Nurtured by the multitude of man's misfortune, a thousand halos
Like torches in the night of the spirit, a thousand traps, pitalls of brimstone
And the empty sky, prostrated face against the earth in frantic laughter...

I was beyond withstanding my own ignominy. I invoked it and blessed it.
I progressed ever further into vileness and degradation. Am I resurging,
Intact, out of infamy?