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by Kommodus

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heavy_samuel thumbnail
heavy_samuel Another dangerously powerful release from Kommodus. It is the only thing I have found that can force me to transform into my hideous lycanthropic form without the presence of the full moon. I have done a lot of damage to the idyllic English countryside while under this album's influence. 10/10 it turned me into a werewolf and I can't escape. Favorite track: Forged Between The Hammer And Anvil.
lukketotte thumbnail
lukketotte Over the Rubicon and ONWARDS Favorite track: Forged Between The Hammer And Anvil.
tuna_casperole thumbnail
tuna_casperole The sound of this record is groovy and insane. Makes me wanna take pre-workout and start punching my grandma Favorite track: Forged Between The Hammer And Anvil.
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*The literal moment when the blade pierces the flesh. A story of the heat of battle and Rome’s victory over the Teutons* Molten conflict, an amber eye in a fiery storm Within an enclave, sanguine oaths devoutly sworn Stake triumph, slay thy weaker neighbour and his men To conquer this ashen land, and news of our victory send This is where iron and blood converge Carnal-drunk, scarlett grin, flanking all enemy in sight Casualties continue to mount, on this barbaric and bloody night Sword and shield raised high, crossed weapons wreathed in flame At dawn, a volcanic victor will be crowned, though nothing will really change Craters filled with carcass, streams of flesh and bone Remnants of butchered brother never returning home But better to die with honour, with smile and clenched fist Than to live as coward or vassal, condemned like Sisyphus Molten lava flows The carrion birds cry A new king is crowned And a Teutonic star Forms and rises in the sky Confrontation builds a man Side by side with brother until the end A laurel order erected to stand For a new monarch ascends
*Letting your guard down and misanthropy simmer. Then betrayed by sycophants and interlopers, ones you knew you should have never trusted. Realising that at the end of the day you can only rely and depend on your small circle of trust, your tribe. Whatever your tribe may be. Black metal is a tribe for all who want to carry the flame* A world besieged, structures of old eroding A mirrored life, treading a path spiritually corrosive To lose everything, to rewrite doomed and failed plans To commune and rebuild and realise what it means to be a man Scarred and scathed by trial, forced back into arms of kin Only to return harder, stronger, wearing my true skin Oldest lessons reinforced, intrinsic hatred never subsides No trust, no empathy, no love for those outside my tribe Return to tribe It’s us versus them, this is seared into my mind Crush those who threaten, fight to protect and defend my tribe This is our nature, our primordial destiny To return to what a man should really be The sum of a thousand generations carving their mark Continue the legacy, further tradition, return to tribe A spiritually bereft culture, a corrupted sect A cannibal failure, an ourbourous to reject Instead we rise from these ruins and maintain An ever-lasting, howling lupine reign
*Diocletian the last pagan emperor of Rome. His legacy includes attempting to purge Christianity from the empire and revive tradition. His efforts were largely overshadowed and later mocked by his successor, Constantine. The Emperor who famously converted the empire to Christianity* The final emperor struggles, Latium in spiritual strife A king who rose through the ranks of carnage and conquest Now must purge the carpenter cult from a fractured culture A black cloud, seeping in through the cracks of our armour Stand against the winds of change Foreign echoes from the desert Fulfil thine wish of martyrdom, die like your Christ Crucified heretics bleed, a grinning coliseum cheers Son and daughters of Adam, fed to the lions and the flames Reduced to excrement or ash, call the true gods by their names You betrayed the heritage of our land For false hope and lies drawn in the sand A plague purified by fire Efforts to preserve tradition Diocletian Persecution The strongest pagan empire Converted by a successor’s vision The final pagan, a resolve like we’ve never seen A reputation and legacy besmirched by emperor Constantine A church erected above his final resting place Spurned in death, his soul swept to Elysium with divine haste
*Ancient darkness trapped, awaiting its time to rise and exact revenge* Buried, deep within the dirt, a slave to the will of the worms Forced human fertiliser, eternal flesh compost for the Earth Try to move, the weight of time has amassed upon me Futility, centuries fused with the veins below, in chains Immortality, reduced to a prisoner of the ancient depths Will I ever emerge from this forgotten mud Trapped, I resign into my own mind, embraced by darkness, I rest Waiting until the season, until the year, when I’m exhumed, I pray the time is near An eclipse, a tectonic shift, fissures bleed and weep A subterranean split, disrupts my crypt, I’m torn from Earthen iv coils I’ll regenerate to exact revenge on the species who interred me in this soil No longer entombed by roots and thicket
*The old titans of Earth lay dormant* A gentle breeze carries through the forest, a biting song of Earth A voice, a vibration, echoing through the arboreal chasm Reaching mammoth mountains and ancient arching trees Whispering, ‘I remember’, thine guardians of old For now zephyrs blow Where petrified giants slumber Prolonged hibernation, a deep sleep, waiting to be broken When balance needs to be restored, the world relinquished Their sanctuary disrupted, human progress increasing The morning is near, when the Earth will heave, and they will awaken Until then zephyrs blow Where petrified giants slumber And there are rumbles and their are groans And soon they will rise to reclaim their home An inevitable destiny for this virus, this human race To be confronted by what we’ve awoken, to be erased
*Roman celebration of victory* A gold gradient morning before the gods celebrate A pagan opera within the clouds, the sky erupting Purple lights beam down from Elysium, our ancestors cheer For another four cycles of triumphant Roman year Thunderbolts over Latium A divine choir eclipse with the rising sun The war has been won, new territories subjugated That which was but a dream has manifested into destiny A parade in the streets, ribbons dance in the Aeolian wind A capital of marble beautiful and rain slicked, thunder scoring the scene Lightning strikes Rainfall hammers down Citizens shout for joy On this holy lupine ground And so there is a celebration on this day But another conquest is never too far away War is peace, never halt the lycanthrophric march Expand or expire, keep pursuing thine imperial task
*What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Overcoming adversary and ascending your weakness* Conceived in the crosshairs, steeled by confrontation Arrows pierced thine flesh, the archers never retire Dragged through broken glass, discomfort the standard Flesh tearing, scar tissue expanding, corporeal chrysalis Forged between the hammer and anvil Twilight for the dying breed Forged between the hammer and anvil A dawn for the strong to feed Soul discarded, conquerer of the valley of the shadow of death Other’s worst fear is your sanctuary Embrace the struggle, thrive in pain, invincible in chaos New heights, mind and body, rise ubermensch Conquer your humanity, legacy of lupine Overcome your weakness, son of empire Discard feeble consciousness, iron mind Take agency of your flesh, ignite the fire Whether it be through honour or infamy You will remember the name of he That was forged between the hammer and anvil
*The once light of the world corrupted by Catholicism* Castra walls paved with sacrifice, reap and sew cheap human life One’s lucky to glimpse alive, the actions of those inside Bodies heave and moan in pleasure, no care for slaves in tether What’s become of Rome, once the guiding light of the world Now corrupted by abrahamic dogma, catholic scriptures unfurled Cum stained cassocks litter the floor, no sanctions on the other side of the door Religious power comes to a boil and scum rises to the top It’s time to emerge from my head, carve off all my dead weight Purge bad blood with an ancestral blade, let self hatred abate Evolve as true descendant of empire, cross the Rubicon unchained Enter a filthy metropolis with strength and honour, redeem it with flames For I am the heir to the line of wolves This spiritual regression ends here Staring down the perversion, I’ve nothing left to fear At this home of the wolf, this legendary meridian Possessed with Roman spirit, I’ve nothing left to fear
*Guardian to the clandestine heart of Rome* Beneath the Lupercal, the true meridian of empire Exercise masochism, a pledge to guard the tomb The sarcophagus of Romulus, the seed of Latium The title granted, imbued with eternal life The lamentation Of the lupine crypt keeper The archaic charge, regal delegation Waiting for the dawn of the wolf The continent will heave, the old ones will be restored Led by the first werewolf, wielding flame and sword Stars, pinholes in the curtain of night Shine down beams of dusty light Through split veins within the stone It hits upon pallid snout, hear his lonesome moan Until then the crypt keeper waits, solitary in his home A masterful sanctuary built within this lupine catacomb Cloaked in regal thread of caesarean purple, eyes ever-glowing in the dark The wolvish watchman waits for the standstill, where he’ll finally be relieved of his task One day this solitude will end One day this darkness will subside One day this solitude will end And from the depths he will arise
*The old titans of Earth awaken* The hour has finally struck, a vermillion morning Boulders splinter and crack, a titanic sonic yawning The tectonic jigsaw begins to widen Waves rise and crash, awaken thine cosmic titans What have come to be known as gods and deities Rise to reclaim the land, the sky, the sea From the four corners they shake off Millenia of slumber To protect their home from being razed, pillaged, torn asunder A new hierarchy forced upon us The human race put in our place By the creators of continents, the seeds of human life Protect the land from the greed of man, blunten the hunter’s knife The landscape changed A new order unfurled As the nephilim Carve out a new world


* I am reborn every time the twelve songs that comprise this record are played.

The blood stained parchment has been unfurled, declaring an aural blitzkrieg to obliterate weakness.
This record is the sum of a four year metastasis. Twelve tracks which capture the essence of the five prior releases, and push this sum further into new and violent territories. The total amalgam of Kommodus in this moment. Thematics can often appear after the fact, and this album is no exception. Reverberations mirroring the ancient and contemporary. Rebirth, awakenings, and heritage. A journey through the past, present and future. The oroborous our species must face. It is my hope that the listener can manifest the negativity expunged in this seventy minutes, into pride, strength, and honour. To soundtrack their will to power and pulverise all obstacles in their path. So, sharpen your swords, polish your armour, the Roman war-machine marches onwards. V.V.V

* This release is dedicated to those who fight daily wars in their minds. And to those who aspire to the peak of heroes.


released May 29, 2020

All music written and performed by Lepidus Plague
(with the exception of drums performed by Magnus T.R.J,
trumpet performed by Count Hoggeth Palmeri, and additional vocals by the Kommodus horde:
Valac (R.P.), Kastighater Inekstremis, Hinterkaifeck (E.), and Burier).

Tape recording by Count Hoggeth Palmeri.
Engineered and mixed by Liam Kriz.
Mastered by Liam Kriz.
Cover artwork by Jef Whitehead (Wrest).
Additional artwork by Dwid Hellion and Lepidus Plague.
Formatting and Layout by Burier.

Kommodus is: The Infernal Emperor – Lepidus Plague.


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Kommodus Australia

Contact for conspiracy: kommoduswolf@gmail.com

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