Whom Gods Abandon (Cassette Version)

from Atrophia by Secundus

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lyrics

Dawn of red days, pageantry of oblation.
Tumultuous hordes in pious exaltation.
Dissonant horns call to claim flesh,
slaked fields wetted, drinking deep of russet tone

Joined conflict of wounds, no lust for final blows.
Pleading of the felled pressed into bondage.
Sun sets on contest divine, armies withdraw home.
Trophy’d legions drive the broken over drought-struck soil.

In starving cities the desperate gather
to seek familial blood and despair at absence.
Streets thronged with wretched, malnourished shadows reaching out
to clutch at the procession of the hobbled on their long march.

The people, thin of flesh, sunken-eyed and desiccated.
The stoic fanatical mass of faithful dying, empty of substance,
followed the bound and those few able
shed pleading tears to gods for mercy.
When would they hear, when would they see,
when would they love those who believed.

The crowd halted below the grand proffering,
atop the apex of caked and stained steps.
The priests awaited above, arms outstretched to the skies
in wild-eyed trance and song at the chancel basin and altar.

Begging, pleading, the procession cries out as a monolith of hands begin to guide
upwards where censers burn acrid incense in finality.
The first upon stone, made supplicant in expiratory sublimation.
As the ascetic utter implorations to gods long bereft of provision.

The liturgy commenced, the knife taken, the work is quick and brutal.
The crowd erupts in jubilant praise as blood spills into the basin.
The second brought forth, then the third, dawn to dusk, for days and days.
The procession wrought unto the gods in canals filled red and torn flesh displayed.

A month's time, no rain has fallen
so the legion moves again to war.
If the gods, still unmoved, grant no favor
then the gods must still demand more.

credits

from Atrophia, released May 1, 2020

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Secundus Portland, Oregon

Secundus is:
Alexis Fields
Hansel Larson
Mark Ellsworth

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