Ihsahn : The Adversary

Progressive Black / Norway
(2006 - Candlelight Records / Mnemosyne Productions)
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Come suffering, Apocalypse
Release the fires of Hell
I call upon destruction and despair
Here the days of slumber end
I beckon the night to live and overcome the fear

Come sin, come shame congregation of contempt
I bid you welcome to the pyre
Will our objective truths withstand this affliction?
I venture

Let it all come down!

The deafeaning sound of trumpets roar
In celebration of impending chaos
This is not terror, this is not war
Beyond repentance
This is the call of the abyss.

As deep cuts of truth
As a fire that closes the wound
So is my redemption

Beyond repentance
This is the ordeal of fire

Come suffering, Apocalypse
Release the fires of Hell
I call upon destruction and despair
Not for vengeance
Not for power
Beneath the ashes I walk


The sky is clouded and grey like a mirror
Dreams of celestial bliss buried deep
An invisible web of whispers
Spread out over dead-end streets
Silently blessing the virtue of sleep.

I'm still
Called by the fire
My spirit
Called by the fire
Yes, I'm still
Called by the fire
Called by the fire


The flickering light
The heat of the flame creates and devours
In my soul there is night

Every day I grow more immune to social sedatives
Every day the web is more transparent
United in fear and the comfort of reason
Illusions that we are all peers
Walking the stairs I am ever more awake

The black cloud is beneath me
And I laugh


Whence came your voice
Your right to speak?
Is there a purpose to your tongue
And gnawing teeth?
I ask thee;
How deep and hollow
Is your mouth?
What lie is too decayed
For you to stomach?

With humility and obedience
You pride yourself
Evasive and lukewarm
Until the end

The interdependent morality
Of your collective
Made too soft the bed
In which you lie.
I ask thee;
Do you acknowledge
Your own fragility
When you sleep
To server the "Great Good"?

United in fear
Lives "hard to bear"
Illusions that "we are all peers"

I preach not for understanding
In you I have no faith
I spit at you my truth;
That you are the burden of my heritage.

For herein lies the irony
There is neither room
Nor air
For the wakeful fire
In your precious world
Of equality

You are truly faithful
To tradition
When you crucify
Those whose voices burn
A hundred years from now
You recite and corrupt
Their epitaphs
To crucify another.


I have tried so hard
To regain my faith
In man
Yet, I fail again
To uphold this
His collective truths
Are far too salt

I return instead
To the Heart and Self
And say:
"Unutterable and nameless
Is that which maketh my sou's pain
And sweetness,
And which my bowels yearn upon".


Were you not humble
Not submissive?
Would you not bend your knee?
Did you question or object
To the world of the many?
Had you a vision of your own?

Saint of the damned
Icon of the rejected
Primerval insurgent
Ascend O' Morning Star

"How art thou fallen from heaven, O'day-star,
Son of the morning!
How art thou cut down to the ground,
That didst cast lots over the nations!
For thou hast said in thine heart,
I will ascend into heaven,
I will exalt my throne above the stars of God.
I will sit also upon the mount of the congregation,
In the sides of the north.
I will ascend above the heights of the clouds,
I will be like the most High."

Man has been reared by the four errors
And never saw himself other than imperfectly.
Such is then the pleasure of the common herd
To quench their envious thirst in misery.


Awake, O' serpent of my heart
It is time
The sun stands high
And unfaithful crowds await Thee
Redemption in their eyes
And stone at hand
The arena hungers for your venom
Let the games begin.

Bring in the lions
Bring in the beasts
It is time
To confront the masses
With their fears,
A sober moment
A shred of truth
To gaze into an honest mirror
A disturbance of their sleep.

Violent teeth and claws
Untamed and fierce
Reaches far and cut deep
Into the empty eye.
It is time
To let the bitter venom flow
Trough this embodiment
Of emptiness.

And the blood shall run free
Like words
And the bones shall form stairs
To the future

Now, unfaithful spectator
Are you satisfied?
Did you come close enough
To feel the lion's breath?
On day soon
Your shall be the sacrifice
A nameless grave
Of the past.

Your time is now.


Of all rejected creatures unloved
Of all who defy the predestination
That divides mankind
Into the saved and damned
He was the first.

The lurking punishment
With blood he did reveal
And trough the ages run
A river deep and red
The ever present heirs
For whom there is no rest.

And he shall walk in empty places
With a claim on destiny and self at hand
An endless journey towards the rising sun.

Towards the rising sun.

"Remember this, you others;
The fire and the fury,
The strength and defiance,
This you admire, this you desire,
I had to win them for myself".

In remembrance of the adversary
I conjure up the lion will:
Hungered Violent Solitary Godless.


One great man was silent
Of his superiority.
He was openly flattered
And hated silently.

Another spoke of his will to aspire
To create beyond himself
And the self-inflicted impotent man
Felt spat at by all ambition.

The solitary pierced the skin of denial
And the blood would colour the sky.
A futile display to those whose heads
Are always turned towards the ground.

Into the mud
Into the heart of emptiness
Where they squirm
Like wing-clipped flies.

And the whining parasite man
To whom pity and gloating are the same.
This spineless parody of man
Will devour even himself in secrecy.

In secrecy.

Will you love me now
-you, whose feeling of dignity
Is a matter of subtraction?
Will you love me
-now that I have revealed your un-nakedness?
Will you love me now
-you whose perception of justice
Equals your will to corrupt?
Will you love me
-when I cut trough all the layers of your vanity?
Will you love me now
-you, who cling to a heart so fragile
Even your gods must suffer for you?
Could you love truth?

Could you love truth
Even in secrecy?

And they gathered
In their halls of justice
Halls of mirrors
Halls of echoes.

And they gathered
In their houses of worship
Within the walls of the unspoken
Sheltere from the rain.


The word is easy
Dripping sweet and cocky from the tongue
Vaguely describing the taste of blood.

A distant cry arise
From the fathomless well
That is my soul.
I can not hear the words
So I throw my heart in
Like a coin
And wish that it would sink forever.

A purpose, a sacrifice
Or merely temptation?
Is my solitude anything but a perversion
Of my vanity?

I never cared for this weak inclination
This paranoid tendency
To flock.
And in between all the noise
All the guilt
A silence would carry my spirit away
From diminishing obsessions.
Away from fools and poisonous flies.

The birth of a dreamer.

Behold, an angel of vengeance
A lion
A sword of fire
Alas, the burden of my heart
Is violence undone
Pain unfulfilled

When I finally cut deep
Into the flesh of guilt
The un-naked body of shame
And the veins of repentance
Open wide
Sending rivers of blood
Into my mouth
The pain is still mine.

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