Get all 6 Astrophobos releases available on Bandcamp and save 30%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Corpus, Malice of Antiquity, Simulacrum, Enthroned in Flesh, Remnants of Forgotten Horrors, and Arcane Secrets.
1. |
Soul Disruptor
04:45
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Once a shadow effigy
has carved itself onto a soul,
it stays within it endlessly,
burning for it to extol.
To laud those wicked reveries,
depicted as nefarious art.
To not forget the ecstasies
primeval devils can impart.
A mask with waiting eyes that stare,
will stir up spectres from within,
reminding of what isn’t there
and still unceasingly is seen.
The empty aeons won’t erase
what’s always there, obscure, sublime –
the image of its burning face,
though plunged in the abyss of time.
It’s looming evermore inside,
a blazing, Stygian paragon,
until the host has waned and died,
a baleful, haunting eidolon.
A vague and smouldering unease
that never ceases to maraud.
It never fades, it grants no peace,
that unrelenting, restless god.
Too deeply graven to erode,
the image doesn’t fade away,
but makes the soul its own abode,
its follower and constant prey.
It prowls in dreams, in thoughts off guard
in absent moments it will surge.
Complete oblivion is barred
before the sounding of a dirge.
The empty aeons won’t erase
what’s always there, obscure, sublime –
the image of its burning face,
though plunged in the abyss of time.
It’s looming evermore inside,
a blazing, Stygian paragon,
until the host has waned and died,
a baleful, haunting eidolon.
A vague and smouldering unease
that never ceases to maraud.
It never fades, it grants no peace,
that unrelenting, restless god.
It’s looming evermore inside,
a blazing, Stygian paragon,
until the host has waned and died,
a baleful, haunting eidolon.
And then the journey is complete
with nothing gained and nothing won.
The only path was to defeat,
a mind is dead, a god is gone.
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2. |
Winds of Insanity
04:42
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Crawling out from a crevice inside,
a stirred immemorial recollection,
that never could completely subside,
of abhorred cataclysmic resurrection.
The buried will again be shown
and all will live their madness when
what has long since lain unknown,
the old, forgotten breathe again.
Their minds conflagrated as their hearts are permeated
by a phantasmal realization.
The winds of insanity lay waste upon humanity
as they see they are the last generation.
As sinister stars had foretold
an ensanguined world is forsaken.
The remains of a line will behold
an unbridled inferno awaken.
Annihilation of all defences,
pervasive chthonian fears,
total collapse of all the senses,
as the living chaos reappears.
Their minds conflagrated as their hearts are permeated
by a phantasmal realization.
The winds of insanity lay waste upon humanity
as they see they are the last generation.
Their minds conflagrated as their hearts are permeated,
witnessing the final desecration.
The winds of insanity lay waste upon humanity
as they see they are the last generation.
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3. |
The Malevolent Firmament
05:24
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Above – the limitless welkin lies, unending.
Below – the mortals not seeing demise, impending.
Grim constellations tread the sky,
their coruscations prophesy.
Caliginous, waiting, malevolent,
the sombre and hostile firmament.
Horrors from afar are bearers
of unheard of crawling terrors.
Above – the empyrean enemies dwell, their reign extending.
Below – the dying not hearing the knell of death crescending.
Strange and undwindling fulgent spheres,
lanterns rekindling age-old fears.
Their purpose hidden in mystery,
their path forbidden and yet will be.
Grim constellations tread the sky,
their coruscations prophesy.
Caliginous, waiting, malevolent,
the sombre and hostile firmament.
Horrors from afar are bearers
of unheard of crawling terrors.
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4. |
Detestable Illumination
08:33
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Behind accepted boundaries of all
known corporeal things
I travelled through cascading vortices
and depths on borrowed wings.
An unlit passage leading to a place
made long before our time began,
where all perspectives are askew,
that wasn’t made for man.
There are vistas unlike any other,
unmoving, yet flowing like waves,
and structures with intricate markings
that wind in hideous shapes.
A pattern would suddenly open,
display its meaning like a whole world.
Spinning, twisting and changing,
rearranging constantly.
One view into that world of an ornament,
of a rune of unfamiliar shapes,
forced harrowing insights upon me,
that I wish I could efface.
A place where no one should venture,
that I wish never existed.
No words can describe the sick grandeur
of its delirious majesty.
Heedless, onward, where man should not go,
over immensities that only they can know.
Into the distant gulfs where stars disappear.
Whisper to the darkness and the darkness may hear.
Drawn into that lambent, shifting, strange
and undulating ornament,
I shudder the moment that I grasp
what it’s carved to represent.
If only I had known the things that waited there,
what I at last would find.
It is terrifying to be seen
by the screaming blind.
Everything around me is writhing
not even the mountains are still.
There is twisting wherever I look
like a myriad crawling worms.
Then from out the meandering landscape
tread the true denizens of this world.
Entities hinted at in writings
concealed in the foulest crypts.
An amorphous entropy twitching,
enveloped in discordant tunes.
Enthroned at the center of disorder,
a living atrocity.
A despicable conscious cloud
surrounded by its progeny,
a countless slithering mass
with the scent of an open grave.
Heedless, onward, where man should not go,
over immensities that only they can know.
Into the distant gulfs where stars disappear.
Whisper to the darkness and the darkness may hear.
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5. |
His Abysmal Grave
03:27
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In the blackness everlasting under
the storming and furious brine,
a dire cyclopean wonder,
the palace of the great malign.
Protecting inert, quiescent powers,
the mausoleum is drowned.
The greatest monument towers
in a watery burial ground.
Crumbling for ages, but still it remains,
the sepulchre with its cadaver in chains.
Time-eaten, mouldering architrave,
adorning the sunken abysmal grave.
Weed-covered friezes adorn the façade,
oblique caryatids surrounding the god.
Cracking, twisted sculptures portraying
a pantheon’s ruler set free.
Mountainous colonnades, decaying,
ruins of supremacy.
Frenzied oracles in pneuma foretelling
the ascent from fathomless gloom.
The divine corpse rouses from his dwelling,
with his stony, rotten tomb.
A necropolis, solemn, preserving his breath.
A towering column, commemorating his death.
Crumbling for ages, but still it remains,
the sepulchre with its cadaver in chains.
Time-eaten, mouldering architrave,
adorning the sunken abysmal grave.
Weed-covered friezes adorn the façade,
oblique caryatids surrounding the god.
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6. |
Invocating the Void
04:36
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An ice cold shine falls in the dale,
on bloodied rocks it gleams.
The piercing light is sickly pale,
malignantly it streams.
Creatures patternlessly twist,
they bathe in murky light
and viscous, dank, miasmal mist
under antediluvian might.
The distant orb spills out its shine,
with ever changeless mien.
The glow falls pallid on their shrine,
indifferent to the scene.
On blood, on stone, on rites of yore,
on worshipers below,
uncaring beams that they adore,
a chill, unwholesome glow.
Enchanted, lowly entities
look up to find their grace.
A staring eye that never sees,
a heedless, barren face.
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7. |
Of Primal Mystery
04:10
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Nightfall of our fate.
One day, when the stars are right,
nightmare gods destroy the gate,
plunging life into an endless night.
When their sunken tomb ascends,
breaks the surface of the sea,
then the rule of mankind ends,
blotted out from history.
Cryptic words on death and sleep
speak of him of ancient race
within boundaries that keep
him, the spawn of nameless space.
Trapped in primal mystery
hindered by the liquid gate,
clawing at our sanity
lies the dead one still in wait.
Waking to ascend,
he will blast our faculties.
More than we can comprehend
dormant lies beneath the murky seas.
Our sciolistic isle
shall be sunken in the black
seas of the opaque and vile
knowledge gained when they come back.
He, the dreaming stellar beast,
imprisoned on the ocean floor,
in the end will released,
rising far from any shore.
Trapped in primal mystery
hindered by the liquid gate,
clawing at our sanity
lies the dead one still in wait.
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8. |
Celestial Calamity
09:12
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Incandescent torment of all living things’ perception,
sickly visions dark beyond humanity’s conception.
Monumental raging onslaught met with no resistance,
talons poised to rip the very fabric of existence.
It’s the ending, final rending
of a torpor, aeon-long,
set in motion when the ocean
sounded a forbidden song.
Rites completed, life defeated,
at the edges of its span.
Seals were broken, now the woken
starts the holocaust of man.
Heavens roar and waters boil,
fires scorch the fertile soil.
The end of all humanity,
celestial calamity.
Hail the impure!
A species blissfully benighted
will breathe no more,
withering, helpless, blighted.
Facing the end,
an end that was always waiting.
It’s unreverend
to die at the hands of the hating.
Shadows made of flesh, grotesque beyond imagination,
ululate a jarring and cacophonous laudation.
Carnage growing measureless as they are celebrating
the wondrous, lightless kingdom that their sovereign’s creating.
The moribund and obsolete
will shrivel when at last they meet
the unrelenting gods of old
and see true darkness isn’t cold.
Nothing mortal will endure,
just enter into the obscure.
All tellurian life is drained
when The Great Dread is unchained.
It’s the ending, final rending
of a time of ignorance.
Sights upturning all their learning
of the cosmos’ vast expanse.
Now begetting his besetting,
wild, abhorrent progeny.
He’s arisen, left his prison,
animated majesty.
Cultures crushed, creation slain,
it begins his undead reign.
A ruinous profanity,
celestial calamity.
Hail the impure!
A species blissfully benighted
will breathe no more,
withering, helpless, blighted.
Facing the end,
an end that was always waiting.
It’s unreverend
to die at the hands of the hating.
Hail the impure!
A species blissfully benighted
will breathe no more,
withering, helpless, blighted.
Hail the unbound!
A shrouded species is returning.
Darkness is crowned
and the world is finally burning.
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Astrophobos Stockholm, Sweden
Since their formation in 2009 Swedish black metal band Astrophobos have made a name for themselves with their ferocious yet
melodic style of black metal.
Following up on with the critically acclaimed album "Malice of Antiquity" (2018), Astrophobos are now back with their long awaited third album ”Corpus”.
... more
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