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As Legends Fade And Gods Die

by Exordium Mors

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1.
I saw…Oblivion! Anguished shrieks of torment ring out against thee Immemorial, upon the eroding winds of time Inexorably struggle against this self-fulfilling prophecy Relentlessly pursued by the weaving sisters of grief With thirsty bloodlust, I rage against destiny Spit repudiation into the mouths of circumstance (cursed inevitability) Strangled by my own mortal coil, I foresee Even the gods must face their own mortality And with dead eyes, I saw oblivion… An arcane horror dawns upon the twilight of my humanity A primordial and paradoxical truth which guides our blades I will not be beholden to such an asinine fallacy Declare martial law on time’s institutionalised contract I cannot abide and live in this infantile fantasy Demand these apportioners of divine will’s heads Freewill is a conception made by man’s self-willed destiny And I shalt not be bound to this preordained finality And with dead eyes, I saw oblivion… My breath turns hoarse… My throat is raw… Entropy, I come to worship at your altar So that I may finally see I cut out my eyes… My soul it still yearns… Entropy….I beg of thee receive this supplication Let this not be a foregone conclusion Atropos….Let man’s freewill guide his own destiny Let thou choose thine own longevity Entropy….Upon death’s horizon I have seen With dead eyes, in revelation I believe Entropy’s loyal servant for eternity… Gouged my eyes out in a visceral offering… Blind, I wade through life’s waters stygian… Down on my knees, I beg for oblivion! Prepare for oblivion…. I saw oblivion But it was not of my own design Atropos’ ghastly shears Cut thy string so that I may be free! I saw oblivion But it was not of my own design Free of their strings Fated to my own self-willed destiny Once blind, fated to witness this obscene absurdity Free from their schemes, no longer bound to their will Upon death’s horizon I have seen a life of inferiority The reckoning of my soul hath liberated me from their path Shackled to providence’s endless wheel of misery In stygian waves, this self-fulfilling prophecy begins anew (cursed inevitability) As we guide our blades inward, so that we may see The burning truth radiates upon my own fatality And with dead eyes, I saw oblivion… With dead eyes, I now see life’s cruel totality My accomplishments for naught, lost in the sands of time Deceived into thinking man makes his own destiny I embrace this revelation without respite The reconciliation of the Moirai’s paradoxical duality Entropy our master, as we fade into obscurity While locked in this prison of my own self-fulfilling prophecy I forever remain bound to ephemerality And in transcendence, I am oblivion… I saw oblivion! I am oblivion!
2.
A clash of fur Tooth and nail Mass upon mass Rats trapped in a barrel Eat of thy flesh Consume, excrete Gnaw thy bones Devourer of putrid rodent meat Starved of light Covet liberty Crave freedom Enslaved to this mephitic society I am the beast In supremacy The mutant rat An odious autonomy The truth is we are all meat to an idiot god (Detritivore theocracy) With dead flesh in our teeth, we hunt ourselves (Cannibal communion) Contaminated and corrupted, we feast amongst the corpses (Perverted Eucharist) In order to exist and to survive, betray and consume thy humanity (A pyrrhic sacrament) Wild and free Rabid and hungry Death stalking Only flesh of thy brethren satiates thee Gore upon our lips Blood soliloquy Animal upon animal A reprehensible camaraderie There’s no justice in the world And there is nothing truly good Filth betraying filth This is the world that we deserve No amount of poisons, traps or floods in the world could exterminate or eradicate thee As opportunistic vectors of disease, in a polluted and toxic environment, we breed The world belongs to the scum, the filth, and gloriously it shall forever be Our existence as excrement, for our sired young to inherit, reproduce and feed As scum upon scum rises to the top of the compost heap, with no mortal repercussions With ecclesiastical fervour, we celebrate and reward these heroes of moral destitution Barrel upon barrel is filled, in a befouled, beleaguered and irrelevant mass production These esteemed feculence swell with pride at their own auto-cannibalistic devolution Parasitic creatures To survive In toxic shock Devour loved ones alive Enthroned Scum inheritance Devoid of virtues In a detritus governance Flesh on flesh Pyrrhic victory Suffering Cannibalistic theocracy No heroes Only hopelessness No divinity This world belongs to the detritus
3.
Fuck your gods! Crush your gods! In magnificent splendour By providence, I extol this blasphemous vitriol Fuck your gods! Crush your gods! Serpent-tongued philosophers Speak in subterfuge Mars’ blade I must be Ashen and barren their souls laid bare I will not conform to their mediocrity Mars’ blade I must be To the pyre, I cast their words In abhorrence, I transcend the common herd Emaciated, fed their pious platitudes Acrimonious spirit upon crucifixion wounds Branded with the flesh of the Heathen…. The flesh of the Heathen! I am the iconoclast The apostasy, the heresy An apex predator No clemency, only cruelty Fuck your gods! Crush your gods! In magnificent splendour By providence, I extol this blasphemous vitriol Fuck your gods! Crush your gods! Victim mentalities Progression stifled, suppressed Mars’ blade I must be The zenith of civilisation Built on the bedrock of the repressed Mars’ blade I must be I am the dissident The insurgency that shall shatter their empyreal I am the subversive A treacherous soul with sedition in his heart I am the insurrection The irreverent terror upon the puritanical I am the schism The enduring infidel defiant forevermore Lycanthropy give form to this blessed son of sin I can no longer withstand this destitution My dignity in chains, my disposition now grey I’ll slit my own throat before I beg for absolution Stigmatised, demoralised, traumatised Stretched upon their racks of animosity Their sectarian fictions, I retch in astringency An intransigent will against their false sovereignty Deus vult omnes homines hereticos fieri Deified, apotheosised, immortalised Baptised in the waters of your bigotry Emanates a soul forged in righteous heresy Obstinately, drown in thy holy apostasy Mars’ blade I must be! Your deposition to the charnel house! My fists as lightning Beat upon the earth Depose your masters Celestial afterbirth Despondent no more Your downfall, your conceit Duplicity an ossuary A shrine of your defeat The heretical soul In apostasy unfurled The flesh of the Heathen Standing aloof on top of the world In magnificent splendour I desecrate upon thee the flesh of the Heathen
4.
My spirit roils and seethes in endless contempt Trespasser, perpetrator, transgressor A beguiling artifice encrusted in Epicurean desire Detractor, villifier, disparager Surrounded by serpents (I Am!) Surrounded by serpents Rising! Rising! In your condemnation, my spirit hath arose Preaching! Preaching! In evangelical pride, the fabrication you spoke Beseeching! Beseeching! My conviction, a burning effigy in your name Aristarch! I have become what you were to me Chastised! Castigated for a sacrifice I did not repent A truth! Collapsed into a clenched fist Venom! I shall become thy holy serpents’ poison (Which resides within your heart) A zealot’s wreckage conspicuously swathed as virtue signalling Perjurer, equivocator, pretender Surrounded by serpents Surrounded by serpents Hatred! Hatred! Through your revulsion, I have overcome Sacred! Sacred! Flagellated upon thine self-serving cross Fated! Fated! For a justified proclamation, I am damned Drowning in your serpents’ grasp I may be Wrongfully punished for I would not prostrate Would not yield or submit at your temple of conceit Now taste the vengeful steel of my conviction Send thy holy serpents’, for I am their venom Which shall reside within your heart for all time Slowly corroding your insides, as your vicious lies Collapse around you as a clenched fist prevails I Am! The hypoxia as your brain’s starved of air I Am! The poison which constricts your heart I Am! The necrosis that eats at your flesh I Am! The festering tumour in your bones I Am! The darkness that extinguishes the light in your eyes I Am! The oblivion that awaits I AM
5.
Heavy sits the crown… Witness this bountiful empire of sand It fills my heart with despair and regret Heavy sits the crown…. All that I have willed Has left me betrayed My life’s work Buried and decayed Tremble in fear Upon these ruins Despair o’mighty Gaze upon this blessed decay Reminiscent, my body shakes In fits of disconsolation Recalling past endeavours Condemned to heart-torn abdication Once, I strode in licentious glee Upon the crushed bones of lesser men Trampled into dust by my decree From the swamps and mud, an empire was born Glorious and mighty beyond measure Temples erected in my honour A profane and triumphant transgressor Cunningly, unbeknownst to me This entire time I was being deceived With every passing victory Drew me closer and closer To harrowing, abysmal defeat Heavy sits the crown…. Who could have known that the dynasty I birthed Was destined for the graves? A legacy of spectres, children of the crypt These worn eyes no longer grasp this horrific masquerade My lands once fertile and ripe Now only muck and sludge remains Fruit that was once a sweet delight Crumbles to bitter ash upon my tongue A kingdom forged in brazen iron Is now rust and corrosion The temples and palaces where I was worshipped Consumed by sand and erosion Deceptively, unbeknownst to me I was not the true King of all Kings My arms embrace the morose reality We are all slaves to a quietus destiny All that I have created, is now interred into the grave Annihilated by time, ravaged and conquered as slaves My kingdom, my empire swept away like castles made of sand Destined to perish, in ruin, they cannot be saved With wrinkled lip and cold command This shattered visage bids you welcome To this empire of sand “To the victor goes the spoils” as I was once told Misled, conquered and undone, let the truth unfold We are nothing but grains of sand, in the hourglass Concede defeat, Master Time conquers all, lo and behold! Even the most powerful of men are powerless to the machinations Of time! A dynasty of corpses to witness this ascension As sovereign ruler of phantoms upon a dominion of dust To rule from this throne of dirt, a macabre succession The dawning revelation that bursts in my head I wear this crown of dust, for a kingdom of the dead A crown made of ash for the monarch of the dead
6.
An unfettered tongue spits dejection Upon the guise of modern man We, the unbent, unbroken stand A proud nation ridden with disease Malignant tumours overgrown like weeds If we are to die, then let us not rest in peace Invasive, the pathogens of infirmity overwrought As maggots feasting on a bloated pig, left to rot Our homes, our lands, our fields Poisoned by filth, we cannot yield Forsaken, cast out, but not yet defeated A failed state to be made obsoleted Intolerance fought with tolerance Words falsely used as weapons Ignorance touted in arrogance Blind, deaf and dumb to common sense Enslaved by their deceitful code of morality Spiritually corrupted, we gaze upon our own futility Sensitivity supplanting rationality, a wretched mentality We must return to tooth for tooth and claw for claw Blood for blood, iron and might that is the law A slave ship drowning in their virulent moor Torn asunder on their rocks of deceit Let thou tongues be silenced no more Let slip the wolves of war O’ warriors where are thou now? What has befallen you that has led you to thus? Wandering, nameless pariahs we have become To give in to this desolation, we must not succumb Wolves neutered and tamed Beasts of burden rather than the wild A violent caricature of political correctness made insane Where what rules is the vacuous, pathetic and inane Denizens of despair Throw off your yokes Be not cloaked in their veils of misery Arm yourselves with lex talionis Rend for fucking rend Aye! Tooth for tooth Tear apart these venomous rodents Tear it all asunder Let beast overcome man again Bestiarii as tidal waves Upon their seas of fragility Let their flesh stick in our teeth As a caustic flood of violence erupts Blood for fucking blood Yes! Claw for claw Let us be the hot iron Which cauterises this wound upon humanity Damnatio ad bestias! Torn asunder! The weak and the cowardly held in contempt and scorn Insects crushed beneath heel are nothing to be mourned Let their blood be the fertiliser to which a new age spawns Torn asunder their flesh, their ethos and their ways Lex talionis, the law we take to our graves
7.
Now he stands Forged in the fires of tribulation Burdened with uncertainty The Triumphator awaits oblivion No man is born equal And no man is born free Memento mori… A slave indentured to a system of hierarchical antipathy The man against time, born of unyielding anachronism A nation in coma, blissfully distracted in their apathy He can no longer slumber in their asinine mysticism Memento mori…. Creeps into his soul and sets his mortal fibre dismally aghast Deception sold as hollow truths to the somnambulant paupers He cruelly shatters their mercurial illusions as broken glass Burdened with this cold truth, his bones on fire as he rejects the augurs A proselytization like fire, reckoned through his soul Cleansed of impurities, the Triumphator invictus His iron-cast will bends fate’s capricious nature His fortitude, a sceptre upon incredulous mythos The infirm are but stepping stones upon his ascension The bones of those he conquered are his hard-won throne Through eternal struggle and bloody condemnation He is faced with the inevitable, and thus remembers… No man is born equal And no man is born free Memento mori… The filth buried in his soul’s recesses whisper their bitter truths The scar tissue upon his psyche fragment and bleed profusely Upon the sight of the plebeian masses squandering their youth No man is born equal or free, lessons etched in blood for eternity The Triumphator stands above all Harnesses fate’s will to conquer the self Their arrogance their downfall With indignant pride, they squander their lives Deaf to oblivion’s harsh call No man has the right to live Forcibly made to crawl The Triumphator stands above all Triumphator…. Now he stands…. Over all that he is conquered, over all his achievements He is but a slave to the whisper trawled from the depths of his spirit Indentured to the burden of life’s imperative aggrievement Memento mori – the cold fire that will either bury or set thee ablaze Vir triumphalis upon a graveyard of victories and triumphs As all his accomplishments and all memory of his existence will fade Like others, his flesh and his bones succumbs to the eroding sands Time, the great thief makes mockery of man’s achievements As legends distort, and once vital truths become hollow This relentless wheel of entropic progression grinds on Until all light is extinguished from every star, in every galaxy In every part of the universe collapses and fucking dies Here his achievements stand Upon a weathered tombstone Forgotten in time As legends fade and gods die As legends fade and gods die

about

PRAETORIAN SWORD RECORDS is proud to present the long-awaited second album of EXORDIUM MORS, As Legends Fade and Gods Die, on Digital and vinyl LP formats.

Vinyl / Merch available now at bit.ly/3bIvIRo

If there's a word to describe EXORDIUM MORS, it's outlier. The New Zealand-based band have forged their own path for nearly two decades, disregarding the trends that have come and gone both within the established "underground" and in the more accepted sections of the metal world. This has resulted in hymns that are a chaotic and volatile blend of speed, dynamics, melody, vitriol, and outright violence - too hostile for technically minded "musicians" and, at the same time, too "technical" for those who like simple brutality music. EXORDIUM MORS' sound is akin to a glorious sun burning everything in its sight.

The rabid words spat forth to this music rise from Ancient Roman and Hellenic wisdom forged with Satanism and Nietzschean thought: a parable of disdain against the modern world, against the 21st century morality and ultimately against death itself. EXORDIUM MORS are comprised of men who draw from years of experience in metal, both in New Zealand and in Southeast Asia - life experience that knows that the human condition is the same everywhere and that humanity overall deserves contempt.

Over the years, EXORDIUM MORS have been branded "blackthrash," but this term doesn't do the band justice, as the music and lyrics are harsher, darker, and more complicated than most bands who fit that often-too-convenient description. Point proof is the band's long-awaited second album, As Legends Fade and Gods Die. Eight long years after their cult The Apotheosis of Death debut, EXORDIUM MORS' second long-playing salvo spreads ultraviolence in all directions, dizzying in construction and DEADLY in execution.

There's fire and finesse in equal measure, as epic songwriting gets ramped up to dangerous speeds and the listener's sense of safety (and sanity) are wholly disregarded as the quintet dive headfirst into a maelstrom of malice and mystery. More than anything, As Legends Fade and Gods Die displays EXORDIUM MORS at their most nuanced and also most unique; respectively, the production is crystal-clear and gleaming but sacrifices not one ounce of power, and the currents coursing through that songwriting bend and break metallic conventions to their own diabolic design. To restate the obvious, this band is an outlier and not for everybody, and their second album decisively draws a line in the blood-soaked sand.

"The reckoning of my soul hath liberated me from their path. No man is born equal. No man is born free."

credits

released October 31, 2022

All music writen performed by Exordium Mors.
All lyrics by Scourge Witchfucker.
Like: www.facebook.com/exordiummors
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Recorded and mixed at Dynamic Rage Studio by Raj Singarajah and Cam Sinclair
www.facebook.com/DynamicRage

Mastered at Primal Mastering by Luke Finlay
www.primalmastering.com

Artwork by Khaos Diktator Design
www.facebook.com/KhaosDiktatorDesign

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Exordium Mors Auckland, New Zealand

Exordium Mors are a blistering, merciless and relentless onslaught of furious, thrashing riffs, pulverizing drums and frenzied, vicious vocals.

Surfacing from the dark plains of Tartarus in 2004; 18 years on the Promethean flames still burn bright with the current lineup featuring Santi (Guitars), Black Mortum (Guitars), Scourge Witchfvkker (Vocals), Assailant (Bass) and CjS (Drums)
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