Metal Monday XVI - My Hands Were Made To Hold The Wind

6/6/2016

A special thanks to follower and Metal enthusiast, Jarak from New Zealand, for this awesome album. I devote this Metal Monday to all who delve deep and wander far in the pursuit of crushing riffs, acoustic onslaughts, and machine gun drums.

My Hands Were Made To Hold The Wind

This soul is amorphous
glowing through nature in strange patterns
desperate follower, I wandered untraceably far from home
Lured by its trail – flashes of gold
lured to the mountain & lulled to sleep
This was the one day no child should have slept
the caravan had come
to take those marked at birth for sacrifice in the River of Muninn
I was among the marked – the ring of youth – appointed to be drowned at dawn – on the chosen day – but I slept through the conjuring – slept through the drums & horns – I would have been a guardian – Watching the grace of wisdom – blossom through the ages – instead I watched the stones & torches – of the village banish me – Self disintegrated – Passion untarnished – There must be another way – The entity I was chasing – The vicar of my failure – expands upon my grief a notion – glory in the wake of abandonment – the river is still mine to take – the soul is still mine to guard – immortal passion in fast aging skin – my hands were made to hold the wind

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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)