The Origin
Izakaron Lyrics

Milleniums turn to sand
Time passes by so quickly that a thousand years seem like sand grains slipping through our fingers.

Behesting the souls of the ashes
All that remains of the past are its dead ashes which serve as the basis of the future.

Begrim'd
Covered in dirt and grime, symbolizing the dark and unknown nature of human life and existence.

Vague dreams of god dwell within them all
Human beings have an inherent desire to believe in something higher than themselves, but these beliefs are often unclear and ambiguous.

Head for the depths, for the widths, for the times
Explore and seek knowledge in every direction of the universe and through time.

His poetry landscapes are deserts of naught
The poet creates vast and empty landscapes through his words, reflecting the nothingness and emptiness of existence.

Seeking his name 'neath the names of untrue
The true meaning of the poet's work is hidden beneath false beliefs and misconceptions.

His trident did rise again
The poet's creativity and inspiration is rekindled, like the god of the sea rising from the depths.

To pierce dimensions, nebulars with Lethal breath Of chasmic starless cold
The poet's words are like deadly daggers that penetrate through the vastness of the universe, spreading a cold and eerie atmosphere.

The being who is the oldest of times Lurking in the beings who multiply and unify, Erecting the glorious reign
The ancient being that has existed for eternity resides within every living thing, unifying them and laying the foundation for a glorious future.

His name spoken words Finding their way thro' the burning ordelesness
The poet's name and legacy will continue to exist despite the chaos and uncertainty of the world.

Supressed by collision of wills by even sealed... Souls of reddening skies Upon this necklace they thread as stones
The souls of the dead are suppressed and trapped by conflicting beliefs and wills, like stones threaded onto a necklace hanging from the reddening skies.

Submerge in the gloam of dimmed luminaries In galaxies savouring horror Cosmos in crystals of possession reflected
The dead rest in the darkness of the night sky, while the universe reflects their existence like a crystal ball, revealing the horrors of life.

Invicible torrents, fierce sounds of Chaos Infinity born of perfection enthroned The forefather who let them drink of his essence Had sent them to wastelands, their lives - hatred's Own!
Eternal and undefeatable chaos gives birth to infinite perfection, and the forefather who created everything allowed his creations to destroy themselves in wasteland of their own hatred.

His mask cracks Revealing the altars of ire unleashed Devouring desires born of the past Into the glory of unity does he arise!
The poet's facade begins to crumble, revealing the true nature of his anger and resentment, leading to a unified state of being with the past.

Sans mercy I contemplate Vanity swirling And raging in me My dust comprises his entirety For I am the Source, I am the Key, I am the Primal Chaos
The poet reflects on his own vanity and recklessness, acknowledging his own insignificance in comparison to the vastness of eternity, but also recognizing his own importance as the primal source of chaos.

My poetry's landscapes are wastelands of Un The name of all gods are compelled by my own Eternally do I change To spawn dimensions, nebulars by cursed song of Chasmic starless cold The being I am older than old Blasphemy sans shapes or forms Pulsation of unknown tytanic Chaos
The poet creates landscapes of emptiness and chaos through his words, and even the gods are beholden to him. He is eternal and constantly changing, creating new universes with his words, and embodies the ancient and formless blasphemy of pulsating, unknown chaos.