One-Picture Video of Agalloch's "Limbs". Enjoy.
texture of the soul is a liquid
that casts a vermilion flood.
From a wound carved as an oath,
It fills the riverbank with a sanguine fog.
These arms were meant to be lost,
Hacked, severed, and forgotten.
The texture of time is a whisper
that echoes across the flood.
It's hymn resonates from tree to tree,
Through every sullen bough it sings.
These boughs were said to be lost,
Torn, unearthed, and broken.
Earth to flesh, flesh to wood,
Cast these limbs into the water.
Flesh to wood, wood to stone,
Cast this stone into the water.
Album: Ashes Against the Grain
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