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resurrectionist - abigail lyrics

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abigail lyrics
“oh what have i done?
is this the beast that i’ve become?
my dearest abigail, i promised you life eternal, and so you shall be blessed”

a final midnight chapter
the heavens writhe with a thunderous dirge
for my sweet abigail
an elegy of a sanguine rebirth

a hollowed heart once warm now breathes a saddened chill
her lifeless gossamer eyes, stolen of their free will
oh how i oncе again wished to see the sun upon her facе
the corpse is growing cold, i need to act with haste

deathless she becomes
flesh and blood
a mother entwined with loving son

what have i done?
what is this beast your love’s become?

oh what have i done?
my cherished wife, beloved son

abigail!
where do we go
when you’re so far away
i dream of your face
but our memories grow so cold

so sweet and pale she reclines in her own deathmask divine
a portrait left unfinished, our love lost to the sands of time
a whisper in my memory, naught but visions in a troubled mind
so on this moonlit winter’s night, i cut into my bride

return and haunt the skies with me, forever by my side

a single incision down the spine begins divine rebirth
peeling skin, stripping muscle, she’ll be my finest work
the knife, she begs for more
my wife, slathered in gore

what have i done?
i have unearthed my only son

abigail!
come back to my arms
on leather wings
you will ascend
i will not let you go
abigail
it feels so cold

why can’t you hear me?

abigail!

“your son shall be the wings that raise you from this veiled sleep
mother and child, together as one. as it is written, my will be done.”

a crimson sacrifice spread eagled on my altar

back split open, ribs removed, incisions made

how delicately my subject lies, she’ll know no earthly demise
a son, cold and pale, lies beside his loving mother
crucified on a table, lifted above any other

removing the arms at the shoulder
tiny bones sawn through
stripping the skin away
sewn back together in a sheet
my son, amputated
skinned, his limbs on the table
spare parts, nothing more
“blood eagled, she lies with wings of stitched ivory leather fused to her spine.”

skin grafts, bone replacement, expansion of the ribcage from behind

closing the wound, one more graft is needed
our son will always have his face looking towards the heavens
sewn between the wings he gave for mother’s dark transfiguration

abigail!
come back to my arms

abigail
my eternal heart

abigail
i become this god of death for you

now rise
now rise
now rise
rise
rise

now rise

“this is the beast your love’s become”



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