The Incantation

by Golgothan

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released December 19, 2014



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Golgothan Lafayette, Louisiana

Theatrical Death Metal from Lafayette, Louisiana.

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Track Name: The Maw of Death
Sullen, I dry my eyes as the casket is lowered into the dirt. Tears roll and fall with the soil that seals her in the earth. A broken man left with nothing but a dog that once belonged to her. Stuck in a small, gaudy, single-room apartment with idle hands trembling, my mind can't help but wander. The thought of suicide keeps beating at the door and this fucking dog won't stop staring. Lost like a ship at sea. Staring back I see the eyes of the dark one, shedding light in the penitence. It calls to me, sending a shiver down the nape. Speaking of a black ritual and an offering made. Will permitting, a fresh soulless corpse may be inhabited by the dead. One chance to pry open the maw of death and pull her out before she sinks into the gullet. Lord, can you hear me? I'm drowning in a sea of misery. It is a catalyst to the restoration of my bliss. I am alone on this earth, but It promises the gift of rebirth. A road paved in lies and deceit, with the power to bring her to me. It breathes fire. It breeds agony. I am hopeless enough to overlook the endless amounts of pain.
Track Name: Mangled Mind
Amid the fog and darkness, with a shovel in hand, I travel beyond the iron gates to the hallowed land where my beloved is dead and buried. Lightening illuminating her tombstone. Her corpse must be exhumed. Digging deep in the dirt, I will unearth the fire inside me that was smothered in agony. Just as beautiful as I remembered, even with a mouthful of soil. Her cold, dead hands clinching a crucifix. I carry her, stiff and lifeless, to an empty field. I construct a pentagram of fire and continue to set her ablaze. Lacerating oneself to provide the blood sacrifice, I speak the words of the evil incantation.
Lucifer arise
Horns wrest the skies
The lambs are prepared to become one with gore
Greet the blood in the form of an offering
reciprocate the promised one
She must smolder until only ash remains. I need a vessel - something close to her. What more befitting than that of her dearest hound? Ashes woven with water. Human smut now fit for consumption. Tubes in the throat; subjected to gavage to carry out the ritual. Resolution within arms reach, all that is left is to relieve the host of its soul. Suffocation seems appropriate in providing an immaculate corpse. Careful not to snap the neck, I feel nothing collapsing its lungs. The light glimmers at the end of the tunnel. Oh how my mouth salivates in thrill. The cacophony of this creature fighting and gasping for breath. Oh, you can smell the imminent death in the air. The unknown black hole within the atmosphere. Cutting off circulation to the brain. Windows to the soul become of the flames. I am not insane, just a mangled mind obscured by the pain. In the thrall of my grip the fire dies in its eyes. Tightly clinching the limp carcass in my arms, I am falling into oblivion.
Track Name: Awake is the Promised One
The room window provides a landing strip for radiant, morning light. My eyelids flutter as consciousness succeeds unconsciousness, but I am lost in between. Golden rays blinding me. Combing my fingers throughout in disbelief, I am not sure if this is just some euphoric dream. Awake is the promised one. Her warmth…her skin…more enthralling than the way I remembered. Eyes meeting eyes; pupils dilating wide. A life once in shambles, now reconstructed through fire. Awake is the promised one. Her warmth…her skin…more enthralling than the way I remembered. I make love to her, then and there, like never before. Her hand in mine, I slide into her. Satanic fornication. Her moist hole satisfied, we cum cheek by jowl. There is no reason for her to ever leave, nor should there be. Nothing will take her from me. Death is the infallible, constant variable. For as long as the blood flows through my veins I will spend cherishing her existence. Hours become days, become weeks, become months. She is alive but not well. Aging at an alarming rate, that comely pinkish skin begins to ossify and hang. Her hair turns from brown to grey, falling out, exposing a sore-filled scalp. Her fingers blister and her orgasms become a mess of greenish fluids. It appears the Devil has dealt a dirty hand.
Track Name: Brown and Red
It creeps through the hallways taking its time.  Airborne pestilence slowly inching into every crevice; embedding in the carpet and seeping through the doors.  Exciting the nostrils of vermin, spuming from the mouth as they anticipate relishing in the sour fumes.  A denizen plagued with age takes a whiff of the stench that will perpetually haunt his life.  An indescribable stink of rot and decay.  The smell he shouldn't have smelled.  The smell of death.  The authorities summoned on account of something terribly wrong.  The door at the end of the corridor is teeming.  Breaking down the door, they are swallowed by the miasma.  Unable to remain inside the bowels, vomit spews out.  There he lay straddling a canine corpse constricted in his arms. It's flesh hanging off. The clapping of balls. Repeating "she's just sick…".  Erect, he is fucking it for, what could have been, the last time before "she" was gone again.  Held at gunpoint he dismounts the corpse.  As his dick slides out, so does a deposit of okra green pus.  In fact it shoots out, spraying the already stained sheets like a final piece to some sadistic abstract painting.  Its asshole is stretched out like a retired rubber band.  Brown and red; flaccid.  Rolling in shit; wallowing. The flesh has decayed enough to display bone.  Its lax neck tossing back and forth.  Its limp body is desecrated to the point of unfamiliarity. The antichrist is the black seed to bear fruit. The serpents are the lords of bane. Satan is the catalyst of unremitting fucking punishment, breathing the fire and oscillating. Forever blackened by the ascending flames.