The Howling @TheBlasphemian

Uploaded November 2025 | Updated September 2026, 6 hours ago

Lyrics:

O wretched moon, thou harlot of my blood
Thy silver kiss crawls cold along the spine
I feel the hunger rising like a flood
A choir of bones that longs to break from mine
My shadow writhes before I bid it move
A prophet screaming prophecies of gore
My teeth rehearse the litany they love
Repeating what they’ve chanted times before:
Let sinew split
Let sanity be shorn
I am the oath the night itself has sworn

My hands, once so gentle, now tremble for the throat
A phantom pulse that begs me:

Take
Consume
Devour

Swallow the light and eclipse all hope
O Savage Herald of the final hour

I taste the fear before they learn my name
That burning hymn that drips from thought alone
To melt the cage around my borrowed bones
O God!
O beast!
O fleeting mortal shell:
Which one of us will drag us both to hell?
Which one of us will drag us both to hell?

What court would judge a creature made of two?
A duel of hungers, reborn each day anew
One sworn to kill, one swearing not to break
A lie that hides the fangs behind the face
I cannot plead for mercy from myself
The beast demands its tithe in mortal health
I provide, lest the howling come to call

For I am victim

villain

witness

All

$The Making of a Monster II Lyrics: From the pyre where they set my love to burn I gathered what was left, the sinew and the bone A heart half-crushed, yet desperate to return Despite the travesty, not even death could do us part A heart A throat A tender kiss What perfect fragments of biology Reanimate me with your lips bear the balm of blessed blasphemy I resurrected what the jaws of death had caught And gave your silence sound again Though they defiled you and twisted you with rot I drew you back with the promise of pain I wake beneath her broken hymns Embalmed in bliss and sweet corrosion A thousand voices in my lungs all screaming in devotion The scalpel sang, her fingers prayed each cut a kiss, each stitch a vow I rise in praise of blood unmade Of saints who rot and voids that howl She gave me back what God revoked my will, my wrath, my savage grace And now I carve her name in smoke across the angels butchered face We eat their hope like candied worms we sip their marrow from the cup Each sob a psalm, each twitch confirms: They rot, we rise, we never stop I thirst not wine, nor water’s grace My need is wet and screaming red I want the twitch, the snap, the taste Of meat that knows it should be dead She taught me love in fractured flesh In silence strung with tendons tight We do not part, we do not rest Our bed is war, our kiss is blight Our love is not a wedding ring it is a garrote dipped in wine A covenant of rotted kings a dance of knives in perfect time Her voice: a choir of razors drawn Her touch: a furnace in the gloom We bloom in shadow, dusk reborn Beneath the gospel of the hollow tomb$

Blasphemian - SkinStealer Pt III (LYRIC VIDEO)

The Pageantry of Nightmares Manifest (Extra Filthy Edit) (Lyric Video)

Blasphemian - Electric Gnosis (Instrumental)