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A procession of tar-blackened mourners, their scarred limbs moving like shadows through the scorched remains of a world that once was. Veiled in black, they drift between rivers choked with the nameless dead—bloated and pale, faces erased by time. Their grief is silent, their mourning endless, a funeral march without rest, without witness. The pyres burn high, the graves lay open, and still they walk, their robes dragging through the ash of the unburied. The air hums with the static of a world undone, the sky is a bruise. They move as though through tar, their veils clinging to skin webbed with old wounds. There is no lament here, no cry—only the weight of what they carry, the unspoken burden of being the last to remember. The earth exhales its final breath, grinding the cold bones of the forgotten. And yet—what horrors gnaw at the edges of this dying world? Dark stains drip void onto the ruins, bleeding through from another dimension, bodies strung up by ropes of glistening darkness, limbs spasming as if still trying to flee whatever abyss spat them forth. The very air splits, spilling forth more corpses—not merely dead, but wrong, tangled in sinews of unnatural black. The mourners do not flinch. What difference now, between the drowned and the defiled? Around them, the air writhes—yet they, untouched, move through the wreckage like figures in an ancient frieze, their presence a defiance against the hollow arithmetic of survival. The light is failing. And when the last frame fades, they remain a final footstep in the dust—the final, fading sigil of a world that refused to be mourned. Lyrics: Pete Dempsey Music & visuals: Maciek Pasinski #deathmetal #blackmetal #metal #metalmusic #underground #industrialmusic #epicmusic #aivisuals #lyricvideo #darkmusic #extrememetal