Deus Nihil

by Witchden

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credits

released October 31, 2019

Blake Reed - Vocals
Adam A. Rivkin - Guitar/Vocals
Andy Green - Bass
Jeff Moen - Drums
Kory McNamara - Guitar

Recorded and mixed by Will Maravelas at 14:59 Studios
Mastered by Adam Tucker at Signaturetone Recording
Guest vocals on "The Chasm" by Joshua James Ans

Artwork by Stephen Wilson at Unknown Relic
Layout and package design by Jordan Swanson at Animus Images

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Witchden Minneapolis, Minnesota

Witchden is a Blackend/Death Sludge band from the frozen tundra of Minneapolis, Minnesota.

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Track Name: From Ash
Blackened lungs and twisted tongues,
a tale of fire yet unsung.
A precipice of ashen waste,
so dead and dry, so out of place;
an earthly echo fallen from grace.

In pain and lust does it confide-
nourished only through deicide.
Faded throes of absolution,
a selfish state of destitution.
Die cast from wanting hands,
scorching all creation’s land.

From Ash...
Behold!
From Ash…
Resurrection!

Blazing light, atrocious light-
incinerated earth, newfound might.
A cycle grim, e’er repeated:
forever fallen, yet ne’er defeated,
forever fallen, yet ne’er defeated.

From Ash...
Track Name: Wither
Writhing, thriving, disassembled;
we see into the past.
Inciting in spite of ambition;
they reach critical mass.

Stained, reclaimed
Deserted
Defamed, renamed
Inverted
Obscene, unclean
Enacted
Broken, unseen
Redacted

Writhing, thriving, disassembled;
they see the present pass.
Inciting in spite of ambition;
we reach critical mass.

Ways old- unwavering; they stand.
Lies told- to lighten the face of man

In the abyss- I can see,
a future wrought from misery.
Convoluted and contorted,
a subliminal slavery.

Infallible, inevitable;
a planet subdued by idiocy.
To create is to destroy;
deities bought - hypocrisy.

Dark skies harken the war that comes.
Sick cries embolden the feeble ones.
Hope dies- malformed delusions;
Fate sighs- a backwards evolution.

Dark skies harken the war that comes.
Sick cries embolden the feeble ones.
Hope dies- malformed delusions;
Fate sighs- a backwards evolution.
Track Name: Craving Agony
Dissent of self, a subconscious tick;
bathing in leeches for a phantom sick.

A great offense, a smear of name;
imbibing chaos to stay tame.

Iconoclast of my own temple,
desecrating my own grave.
Auto-inquisition, a grand crusade-
no dignity left to save.


Inquiry of the subconscious,
the most dangerous game-
a pallid strain of broken mumbles
shrieking inside my brain.

Drawing borders before the mirror,
conceal the lion in the midst:
for in eternity at war-
there’s never peace to miss.

Ripping out my own tongue,
beneath each eyelid, a streak of red.
Betray the self to spare the rest-
save yourself, I’m already dead.
Track Name: Abhorrent Rite
I beheld the unraveling of stars,
transcribing word of gods to blood of man.
My cosmic mind e’er adrift in foul vessel-
witnessing Heaven’s hopefuls: cast to the abyss!

Striding beyond the seventh sphere,
aligning the curious mind with perilous void.
Lobotomize truth and cast the stones,
for man is naught but grotesque effigy.
Call unto Chaos: fractured and forsaken.
Nothing awaits, and nothing is all.

Desecrate the sanctity, a desolate gallery:
a mountain of filth to serve as altar.
Open to me are the rifts untraversed,
unstricken by dichotomy of mortal god.

Diseased… rotten… leperous swine!
Seething… fleeting… imbibing denial!
Revolting… disgraceful… poisoning pleasure with might!
Enslaved as eternal fodder for this abhorrent rite!

I beheld the unraveling of stars,
transcribing word of gods to blood of man.
My cosmic mind e’er adrift in foul vessel-
witnessing Heaven’s hopefuls: cast to the abyss!

Diseased… rotten… leperous swine!
Seething… fleeting… imbibing denial!
Revolting… disgraceful… poisoning pleasure with might!
Enslaved as eternal fodder for this abhorrent rite!

Revolting… disgraceful… poisoning pleasure with might!
Enslaved as eternal fodder for this abhorrent rite!
Track Name: The Chasm
Slumbering at the ends of the Earth,
lies a beast of no honor or worth.
Exiled entity; a past worth forgetting-
history stained by deceit and bloodletting.

Forsaken by man and gods,
memories: dead and lost.
Emotions of an absent soul,
infinite sins, unabsolved.

Break against the tides of absolution,
decrepit lies and dark illusions.
Sight now lost, eyes gone black-
a path, once chosen: there’s no going back.

Pray for forgiveness, pray for release,
pray to forget; but the visions will never cease.
Accept your fate, outstretch your trembling hands:
for you are faulty, for you are man.

Festering in air wasted by the mindless servants of the self,
stewing in the metaphysical excretion of a gluttonous reality.
Tendons of the vertebrae twisted until the last fibers of flesh remain,
caked in their blood and the pustulent extremities of their idiocy.

Pray for forgiveness, pray for release,
pray to forget; but the visions will never cease.
Accept your fate, outstretch your trembling hands:
for you are faulty, for you are man.
Track Name: Note to Self
Grim revelations of self mutilation,
fixed with sedation; hallucination.
Never rest on this mental Everest;
ascend to the bottom- for more is less.

Atrocities that bleed through my thoughts-
mind expanding as my heart rots.
To understand all: a plague for the few,
a truth more grotesque than the lies that they spew.

Severed and shattered; broken and used;
a grandiose offer no man can refuse.
Expelling these demons: a dubious task,
no blood on my hands with these gloves and a mask.

Fueled by hatred, enveloped in despair;
at sanity and flesh I rip and tear.
Secrets kept behind the basement door,
My demons are screaming but I don’t know what for.

Freedom or feeding, attention or solace?
I should just kill them; bring an end to all this-
but what if that’s what they want, that’s what they need?
Fuck it all, my next victim is me.
Track Name: Finding Death
The reaper cometh in a sickness slow,
a poison crept through hearth and home.
A legacy of self destruction,
always together; they were always alone.

The strangest face; that of Death.
Stranger yet; the masks it bore-
that of a helpless sadomasochist,
and parasites who gave him more.

Steps away from the doors of the morgue,
a life not wasted but never lived.
A silhouette in hues of red-
so oft did it take; unwilling to give.

A kingdom come apt adoration,
an audience of blinded fools.
Raising arms to defend their master,
their disillusion all too cruel.

Steps away from the doors of the morgue,
a life not wasted but never lived.
What a peculiar day for a funeral,
a menagerie of buried hatchets:
a flock of vultures to exhume them,
no dignity for this mortal passing.

A farewell delayed, now never spoken,
a part now lost, another awoken.

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