Metal Monday C - Lightbearer

1/29/2018

Well, what do we have here? Why yes, it is the unofficial centennial Metal Monday. Yes, the design and scheme of this place has changed. And lastly, yes that is a fallen angel below.
We return this week with Norot. I can only describe it as wandering home one evening and hearing a strange echo from some deep below. A resonating wail exhuming itself from the bowls of a well or chamber beneath. You listen with curiousity though your gut tells you to run, to not pursue sight of what causes such a titanic noise. This was a vast and luminous find. A blackened journey that consumes and grips.

Blind cold cries

call by bitter soul

Into the blackened light

Out of fallen skies I see the light

Out of olden eyes I see the dawn

shedding shredding lives

Bringer of light

Father of light

See the truth in lies

Divide The sky

See The light in shadow

The truth in lies

Come bearing light

Seven open eyes, Seven open eyes, Seven open eyes, Seven open eyes, Seven

Somewhere in time your given a new way

To let go of sorrows

Forever chained to my soul

Fires alight, the looming billows

Open forth thy gates and come unto me

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THE MAD BARRON

QUOTES I ADMIRE
"A wilderness, in contrast with those areas where man and his own works dominate the landscape, is an area where the earth and its community of life are untrammeled by man, where man himself is a visitor who does not remain." - from the Wilderness Act, 1964

"I owe my solitude to other people." - ALAN WATTS

“I think I could turn and live with the animals, they are so placid and self contained;
I stand and look at them long and long.
They do not sweat and whine about their condition;
They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins;
They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God;
Not one is dissatisfied-not one is demented with the mania of owning things;
Not one kneels to another, nor his kind that lived thousands of years ago;
Not one is responsible or industrious over the whole earth.”
― Walt Whitman

"In the ancient world, people placed heavy stones on the graves of the dead so their souls would not wander and inflict the living. I always thought this was simply the practice of superstitious and primitive people. But I was about to learn that the dead can hover on the edge of our vision with the density and luminosity of mist, and their claim on the earth can be as legitimate and tenacious as our own."

- Dave Robicheaux (In The Electric Mist With Confederate Dead)