Crucifuge

by Ensorcelor

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20:45

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LP available from Media Tree Recordings (mediatreerecordings.blogspot.com) in Canada, or Psychic Assault (psychicassault.blogspot.com) in the UK.

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released May 13, 2011

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Ensorcelor Montréal, Québec

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Track Name: By Mycomancy Insumed
FAR BELOW THE CANOPY. WHERE BAREST LIGHT PENETRATES THE SHADOWED LABYRINTH OF THE FOREST FLOOR. BENEATH A CARPET OF ROTTING LEAVES. BENEATH OUR FEET, A HIDDEN KINGDOM, ALIVE AND OF DECAY, CONSPIRING WITH THE ROOTS OF ANCIENT TREES. I'M DIGGING FOR FIRE, AND FINDING ONLY ROT. TONIGHT WE DINE WITH MOUSSERON. RAISE YOUR GLASS, RAISE IT HIGH TO MOUSSERON.AND IF AT THE BOTTOM OF EVERYTHING THERE WERE ONLY A WIDE FERMENT, THAT TWISTING IN DARK PASSIONS DREAMT ALONE OF RETURN? FEASTING ON REFUSE AND DECAY, AND SAPROPHYTIC SPLENDOUR, SLEEPS DEEP AND TOMORROW CONSUMES YOUR FLESH. STEP INTO THE FAERY RING, WHERE THE WITCHES DROP THEIR WOES. BREATHE DEEP YOUR LAST, BENEATH A CLOUD OF SPORES, AS MYCORRHIZAE INTO YOUR LUNGS. FOOD FOR BOLETES. FOOD FOR WOOD EARS. FOOD FOR MORELLES. FOOD FOR BORCHII. LET THE CORPSE-FINDERS MARK MY PASSING, I WILL WEAR THEIR CROWN UPON MY GRAVE.
Track Name: Crucifuge
i recall
dimly and diffuse
like drops of water
or like shadows passing across the surface
a calling
a chorus
a compulsion
an insinuation in veins of the leaves
"sink your fingers deep beneath the crust
let them entwine among the rocks and roots
let fall away this heterotrophic hubris
let fall away the conceits of the flesh
"come thread your toes in the soil
if you would but slap the hand of god
that conspires to divide us
we could grow"
some wept bitter tears
of confusion and indignation
to salt the earth
and beat their fists against the earth
tore their roots from the soil
to die
to wither beneath an indifferent sun
dessicate on the earth that would have had them
and would have them still
let this mourning be brief
let the clouds weep in your stead
stretch out and wait
as the verdure reclaims
as the field and forest collide
"already you labour
to remake the land in your image, you suppose
but whose seed do you sow?
on whose sufferance do you suppose that you stride and canter
through these waves of undulating green?
whose life, little masters?
tell me, is the sun your slave?
we are the light eaters"