Wreath

by Spiked Crib

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1.
Cortege 02:13
2.
In silver streams of moonlit splendor, We heard him growl like mighty thunder. As five ropes of steel are plucked and slapped On destiny's ugly face. Sweat, blood, tears and liquor, Flowed in a battle of sanity, The beast squirmed with fangs of hate, Punctuating vain humanity. With powerful jaws to bite the steel, He made the lamb into his meal, Rejoiced in metal and moaned in light; With fatal hunger he devoured his veal. When waves came crashing in on rocks of pain, He sought no wealth, no water, no grain. Humbled his strides, swallowing venom, Of humility and truth in vain. The wind beckons a storm and it rushes with certainty, Engulfing victims who sail in canoes of apathy. When the sun shines, on dark winter days, We see the beast in his days. Where are your powers of malignant virtues and sacrifice? Where are those dry eyes that refused to droop and cry? Where are those locks of evil mirth that danced to beats? Where are you oh commander of our bleats? Stumbling to my abode I tame those flames of anger and spite. Against the oppressors of he who lays in that burial site. We shall one day in green pastures unite, And against the oppressors lay down and fight. The wind beckons a storm and it rushes with certainty, Engulfing victims who sail in canoes of apathy. When the sun shines, on dark winter days, We see the beast in his days. The thud of earth on the soft white corpse echoed the peace, As pearly drops of sorrow crawled along my crumpled cheek, The cadaver of him who once commanded the multitude, Was laid in the earth’s bosom; forever neglected and destitute.
3.
The breeze stops, like a jest it mocks her. In silent tears she carved parallel death lines that soaked in the grief, Blood replaces tears and swallows the anxiety of mortal belief, With a clenched fist to make it swift she cherished the last of her times, Awaiting a morbid holiday to eternity that would reflect her crimes. Turning toward the open window she sees the dusk get darker and deep, Under this sky she strayed along, in search of one, forever to keep. An unclaimed offspring she was born in the fire of destinys kitchen, Raised like a wild lily she kept the sad tales swallowed within, The hand that picked her knew nothing in return, She pledged the foster-mother whore, she'd forever help her burn. A dark, bottomless pit greeted her fall, A butchered baby in her womb resounded its call. The cuts seem deep enough to let go of breath, She lies down in agony but there's no sign of death. He asks for more pain to announce his arrival, Blood makes the carpet red and stretches unasked survival. The moist paper lies beside her crumpled being and gloats, “Goodbye kind hands that fed a dried, parched throat, In shimmers of heavenly gold I will plead for your reward, The rest of your days will be bliss if there's a God. Don't seek me among the dead for ill fly away to never ending skies.” Deep in my six feet dwelling I cannot hear your cries. Bless those who tormented my starving flesh and put me to use, I'll pray for their slow, peaceful death, That will be my heavenly muse. Another glimpse from yesterday sends shivers down her stiff spine, Twitching with the venom of the past invoking shallow whines. As equals she counted the masculine charms that assured asylum. And took pride as they ground her in a sweet, sexual delirium. The days led a ring slide up her finger on the altar of God, When destiny played a last hoax with an assuring nod. She's left naked, undressed by selfish minds, loosing garments of hope. She moves the blade of redemption swiftly, to be stripped no more. The breeze stops, like a jest it mocks her…
4.
72 Virgins 06:42
Trickling tears from mountains high, The summons of faith one can't deny. Marching forward, past desert storms, More icy hatred than fiery warmth. Pledging sacrifice to undeserving scum, That enforce faith in unending glum. Treading miles to swallow innocents, the promise of divine pussy, untouched, succulent. Take your lust wars to greener pastures, among bearded fiends and false fakirs, Your mother weeps sorrow, your father disowns, You charred down far kingdoms, but struck down your own. Treading miles to swallow innocents, the promise of divine pussy, untouched, succulent. Take your lust wars to greener pastures, among bearded fiends and false fakirs, (The mystery of life, yet misunderstood, Spotless garbs now drenched in ever fragrant blood, Orphans, the new-born scavengers prowl Hounds lament your birth with unceasing howls) x2 Carving vile niches in history's pages, Defiling sacrifices of spotless sages. Decades of dominance die with passing years, Your kind shall drown in our flowing tears Evil harboured in puritan mentalities Widows slap their breasts in hysterical insanity Tears for heaven pour down sinking tombs deeper Tales of 72 virgins feed the grave-digger.
5.
Rise to fear, to grief, to anguish Moaning ov'r days never to be Charm the sheets with tears and twisting Quivers of streams on sunken cheek Death, Will I wear your cloak today? Cells they rise in queer large numbers Feeding the reaper with hope Barren scalp bears witness to the danger Of the flesh soon to become meat (Leave death angel, let her now be Drain vain thoughts of anxiety. Near the gates of where she will be, Stands relief from attrocity.) - 2 The distant light. (Come, sweet parting, wash away pain. Bury suffering, life in vain. Scorch dry skin off failing limb, Swell the cold from deep within.) - 2 She fails to breathe. Roses break grey petals, Shattering shards, Of glassmade memories, Carved in a heart (Dreams they fly by like the souls of the fallen, Fears they don't threaten no more than vain wanting Hurts cease to tease with hopes of sweet balm Fly away darling like a dove so calm) - 2
6.
Evening sets up on the coastal confines, It’s the time for the moans and diabolic whines, As he sharpens his steel against the rock And glances once more at his well groomed flock. Innocently disguised in a victims robe, The fate to befall them, they will never know. They bleat and worship their slayer, He feels his thirst rise and utters a prayer. Make my steel blunt and my grip firm, As helpless moaning creatures, under my power squirm, As I slit their necks deny them their breath, Their blood anoints my head, I'm baptized with death. Where is the guilt I owned in years defiled, Where is the holy smoke, I feel so mild. My heart hasn’t shrunken, it feels the same, Conformists label me as mortified and insane. My apron is moist and maroon and thick, From the pure, the purest I pick. I break into the unseen, the untouched, unfelt. I endow ache and misery and give them hell
7.
Bloody Baby 04:14
She played in a tavern, said it was country, She played a sweet song, helped keep her steady, Caught an eye from the corner, of the stinkin’ men’s bar, The eye she thought would someday take her afar... Accepted a ride home, on that cold winters day, Another glass of whisky, another game to play, When you turn on the dim-lights, darkness begins to grow, When the flesh begins to beckon, passions begin to flow! They take another oath, to slay with decency, The lights at the operation theater bear witness to what they see, When the oath means no shit to them, they carry on their task, And we have another bloody baby, beneath the surgeons mask. Each limb is tugged and plucked away; she sounds her inaudible shriek, Sorry little darling, mama’s life is at its peak, You’re just another fetus, so tender and so soft, But mama’s playing it cool this time, DOCTOR RIP IT OFF!

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Wreath, is a surreal portrayal of death in its most magnificent persona presented as a bouquet of unique sounds narrating your deepest darkest emotions.

This album contains 5 tracks with 2 bonus tracks.

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released October 22, 2016

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Spiked Crib Mumbai, India

Spiked Crib is a Symphonic Extreme Metal band hailing from Mumbai, India. Besides darkly inclined lyrics and an ambient undertone in the music, the band also generates a good response with hearty harmonics, blended into contemporary Black Metal styles.

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