Deathspell Omega
Kénôse

Everything, except GOD, has within itself a measure of deprivation,
therefore every entity can be classified based on the degree
to which it is infected with mere potentiality.

A carpet of cadenced and solemn drums, a round arpeggio but sharp as a razor accompanies panting whispers mumbled in delirium. It is the beginning of a journey between the divine and the abject, between blood and splendor, between kenosis and plerosis, in a whirling up and down enantiodromia accompanied by distorted but eloquent notes like an ecstatic and feral monologue.
The portal to the void opens: we are greeted by an eruption of choirs, trumpets and a moment of silence, destined to shatter upon the granite-like razor cuts of guitar that burst furiously. They incisively sculpt, tear, they are mad and tireless, tracing dissonant yet orderly chaotic notes, writing words of theanthropic wisdom.

Kenosis! Theory of great risk...
With blind, bloodshot eyes and a trembling hand,
a fragile androgynous being maintains the perilous doctrinal balance
stolen in a garment stained by the sordid blood of the Flagellation,
of the lacerations, of the cruel wounds etched by real attributes, and
of the endlessly dripping crimson splatters,
while the Solemn Mass of the Holy Spirit is celebrated...

The first act of devastation concludes its work with the same sludge that welcomed us into this dimension as black as the most subterranean of mysteries but illuminating like a divine revelation, to begin again with a soliloquy of guitars and growls alternating more restrained parts with outbursts of anger, almost as if to reflect at first and then attack by lashing out at the emaciated minds and robbing them of every trace of miserable human dignity. The air is filled with horrified contemplation and the stench of a plagued melody silences every thought, rendering it vain and futile in the face of kenotic sacredness.

Explicit is the faith in a GOD that allows his creatures
to be outraged and despised...
And this
is their only meaning of salvation...
The only meaning of
SALVATION!

But this iniquitous process does not end with the impotence of the soul, but with its total elimination.
And so the third act concludes: that of putrefaction, that of oblivion and dissolution into the dust of nothingness.

No man can see me, and survive!

Drums and guitar bound in a frenetic, ruthless dance simultaneously corrode the remnants of a being now reduced to shreds; a demonic and out-of-tune piano mocks the tragedy with unhealthy melodic hops; hell and paradise, damnation and salvation, although at opposite poles, now seem so close; all this has the air of being an intimate ontological pandemonium put in crisis by a wavering and spasmodic faith...

Is the search for perversion nothing but a mask
over the search for meaning and knowledge?

Here the assailants return: slow, dragged, and coordinated riffs, bubbling vocalizations but never too aggressive, the last scars of a calvary offering their presence in these weak and ever-fainter moments, until they disappear with the pain and existence itself...

Process of emptying completed.

Tell me my son, why are tears furrowing your face?