Unshackled and free
He gets to his feet
The remnants of sleep
Lie pooling beneath
A thaw of a past life
Once its snow has withdrawn
A mask and disguise
That were worn long afore
He slews off the gown
A former snake self
The smile on his face
Rewriting the frown
Waiting just underneath
A light dusting of snow
An alternate other
Him’s ready to pounce...
(He) let’s that him in
Flooded with sin
Begins practicing
Some self-distancing
Dressed in new skin
(Stitched) from deep down within
Until there’s nothing
No (more) self-distancing
Anamnesis
Remembers the sun
Remembers the rain
As it came gushing down
Like their hate and their flames
Remembers the times
When he knew who he was
What he wanted and who
He thought he could have been
Why so distant now
Why so disparate
Why so lost, afeared
Why can’t he see a way forward
A ferocious display of blackened stoner-doom from Moscow's Moanhand, who offsets moments of bleak ugliness with clean, haunting melody. Bandcamp New & Notable Jun 23, 2021