Album review: The Wounded Kings – Consolamentum
We breathe laments for those who destroy without pity or mercy - there is no hope; anguish gnaws on the glistening nerve, the soft pulp of our desperate desire to live - our only understanding is for the bleak acceptance that what fixes its gaze upon us will be our end, our doom - a new life is lived in those few heartbeats left to us, a terrible, swirling journey - but the hammer blow, when it comes, is swift, measured - delivered with...