Deathspell Omega
Paracletus

THE REVIEW

I realized I was on the brink of the absurd when every attempt to rationalize was stifled by a gut-wrenching sense of anguish, and my only faculty was to greedily inject air into my lungs because my poor heart seemed to have lost all rhythmic logic, twisting hysterically as if trying to uproot itself from my chest.

Then I understood that, in the end, it wasn’t worth surrendering to the reassuring comfort of reason. So I poisoned my own sanity, allowing the most terrifying and ancestral nightmares bred by man to gush from music in a delirium of flames and mad splinters. Soon, nothing of my world remained; everything was returned to silence, to insanity, to the inconceivable.

Then it was as if an infernal phosphene scorched my sight, and a rabid cerberus guided my tormented steps through thickets of thorns and vipers, towards an end unknown even to God himself.

Only I remained, and the demons of Paracletus inhabited my restless sleep.