Father, Forsaker
Swamp of Unholy Vengeance: A Sinister Tale by Realm Of Madness
Lyrics
This bayou bleeds with a vengeance my unholy sickness
This swamp is tainted with my intense and unholy malaise
Their screams go unheard
Their cries are ignored or unnoticed
Beyond trees and miasmic fog lies no hope for survival
Beyond the trees and thick, unhealthy fog, there is no chance of survival
There is no escape from my swamp oh so terrible
There is no way to escape the dreadful swamp
O Father, Forsaker
Addressing the father as the one who abandoned or forsook
Why couldn't you save me
Expressing disappointment or resentment for not being saved
O Father, now look what you've made
Blaming the father for the monstrous existence created
A fucking monstrosity
Describing oneself as a monstrous and abhorrent being
Their shrieking drowned out by the insects
The screams of the victims are overshadowed by the sounds of insects
They're singing and dancing, their voices so elegant
The victims are portrayed as singing and dancing with elegance
Their choir symphonic, my slaughter hedonic
Describing the victims' choir as symphonic and the act of slaughter as hedonistic
Their cries so cathartic, my terror so fucking diabolical
The victims' cries bring satisfaction, and the terror inflicted is considered diabolical
In this swamp there's no forgiveness
In this swamp, there is no room for forgiveness
I must fulfill my lust for vengeance
The narrator feels compelled to satisfy their vengeance
Violence has become my sickness
Violence has become a consuming ailment
Dare not face me all ye who enter here
Warning those who enter to not confront the narrator
God have mercy on my victims
Seeking mercy from God for the victims
Know damn well that I will send them
The narrator is determined to send the victims to God's heavenly prison
Straight to the gates of your heavenly prison
Victims will face divine judgment but are liberated from their current existence
But at least they're now free from this existence
Although gruesomely killed, the victims are free from their present life
Chopped to pieces, dead in the mud
Describing the victims as dismembered and dead in the mud
This swamp of horrors drenched in blood
Depicting the swamp as a place of horror soaked in blood
Primeval hate flows through me
Ancient hatred courses through the narrator
I'm evil, twisted, truly unspeakably wicked
The narrator acknowledges their evil, twisted, and unspeakably wicked nature
Hideous deformity, Father's creation most sickening
The narrator describes themselves as a hideously deformed creation of the father
O Father, Forsaker
Reiteration of disappointment or resentment towards the forsaking father
Why couldn't you save me
Expressing the desire for salvation that was not provided by the father
O Father, now look what you've made
Blaming the father for the monstrous existence created
Signed your son, V. Crowley
Signing off as V. Crowley, perhaps implying a connection to Aleister Crowley, a figure associated with occultism
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