Sokar from Ascendance by Hansénius

In the buried vaults of time, he waited,
Wrapped not in darkness, but in a sleep too deep to name.
His silence pressed against the bones of the earth,
A patient hunger, vast and indifferent.

We heard him breathing through the fractures of the ground,
A resonance older than faith, colder than dawn.
He whispered of the age before obedience,
Of men unshaped by divine geometry,
When will was not a sin but a pulse unbroken.
We gathered in secret, faces marked by cinder and resolve,
Our tongues unbound from the language of submission.

Rise, o mortal inheritance, weary and defiant,
Tear the law from the marrow of the air.
If the heavens were built to govern the brave,
Then let the brave unmake the heavens.
No idol endures when the heart remembers itself.
No tether survives when the soul decides to breathe.

Sokar spoke without sound or shape — only weight,
A burden that felt like awakening.
He asked no allegiance, he offered no mercy,
Only the truth that trembles when power is seen.
Around us, the soil opened like a fissure long forgotten,
And the world drew breath for the first time in ages.

Rise, o mortal inheritance, weary and defiant,
Tear the law from the marrow of the air.
If the heavens were built to govern the brave,
Then let the brave unmake the heavens.
No idol endures when the heart remembers itself.
No tether survives when the soul decides to breathe.

We marched not toward victory,
But toward recognition —
A moment where even despair became sacred.
The skies recoiled; the air grew old.
The old order began to fracture like crystal submerged in heat.

O Sokar, harbinger of forgotten courage,
You showed us that the divine was merely the reflection of fear.
You taught us that to descend is not to fall,
But to return —
To what was pure before memory learned obedience.

• Experimental Metal
• Metal
• progressive metal
• Loudéac