Black Hate’s “Ika-nun-na” feels like stepping into a timeless ritual. The lyrics open “under the shelter of time,” calling up buried roots and naming us “children of wind and sun.” Repeated chants of Ika-nun-na work like a spell, inviting listeners to travel beyond ordinary reality and into a cosmic dreamscape where ancient identities awaken. Sky-written names, universal illusions, and echoing invocations paint a scene that is both primordial and futuristic, hinting at Mexico’s pre-Hispanic myths while swirling in modern dark-metal mystique.
The song’s story circles around creation, chaos, and rebirth. A fading star, a winged serpent, and a “black circle” signal the collapse of an old world. Yet this very collapse sparks revelation—the true light bursts through, pointing the way back to an “alternate reality” where everything can begin again. In other words, destruction is not an end but a reset button: by facing darkness and chaos, we remember who we really are and rediscover the path home. “Ika-nun-na” ultimately feels like a sonic phoenix, reminding us that within every ending hides the promise of a dazzling new dawn.