Pogarda - Czarne Obrazy (Review)

(Digital release: July 19th, 2025 — Physical edition to be unveiled on October 17th, 2025 under the seal of Godz Ov War Productions)

Hear ye, hear ye, good folk of the shadowed realms!
Raise thine ears and still thy tongues, for from the distant lands of Poland now drifts an opus of ink and ash, a black psalm meant to disturb the slumber of souls grown too docile. Its name: Pogarda, and its creation: Czarne Obrazy, five lamentations forged in iron and soot.

From the very first notes, the tone is set: sorrow advances like a funeral procession, the guitars weep sharp arpeggios like daggers of mist, and the voice, hoarse and fervent, howls with an ancient suffering. One could swear to hear the cry of a fallen monk, lost within the corridors of a ruined monastery.

The songs follow one another without respite, like a procession descending into the abyss. Lament, Nieludzkie Pragnienie, A Czwartą Plagą, Freski and Wilki wyją answer each other like shattered stained glass through which the same breath of shadow escapes, presenting itself as a single black mass, a continuous stream where rage, desolation and a glimmer of dying beauty intertwine.

The instruments resound with honesty and fervor: the guitars weave the web of despair, the bass rumbles beneath the stones, and the drums, the faithful hammer of the nocturnal blacksmith, strike unceasingly upon the anvils of damnation. As for the voice, it roars like a possessed preacher, bearing the word of a world that is dying.

The production preserves the rawness of true underground spirit: no ornament, no artifice; only sweat, dust and sincerity. Behind every note, one can sense the calloused hand of the craftsman, bent over his work like a scribe illuminating his grimoires before delivering them to the people.

And let it be known: Czarne Obrazy seeks not the vanity of modernity, but the faithfulness of shadow. This is no album for lukewarm hearts, but for those who savor the bite of cold and the truth of iron.

On October 17th of this same year 2025, under the banner of Godz Ov War Productions, the work shall at last take tangible form; parchment shall become binding, breath shall become stone. Whosoever holds this record in their hands shall hold a fragment of Polish night, a candle long extinguished by the wind of the centuries.