1. |
Intrusive Axiom
01:13
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Keep your eyes shut until the end!
Don't stare into its wet gleaming fangs.
Wear off the stern countenance along with your thoughts
'Till you exist no more.
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2. |
Waning Remnants
04:44
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Here are the tentacles bursting forth with the disease, spawned entirely from the reflection of the human curse.
A vortex of malevolence governing over this mortal waste callously unearths the tortured faces of fear.
Nothing sounds more delightful than the aria of a frantic lament
erupting towards the absence.
Unleashing the darkest fatigue imaginable, coiling farther and farther away.
When the stars flung their blazing arrows
Drenching the skies with their plaguing tears
Did he smile at the sight of his work?
Reflecting his image 'pon your own
Evermore welding your mortal terrors
Fallen sculptures of world-weary macerations.
In the wake of eternity
Hearts will feed on the blood of lost saints
Their skinless brows will glare in the Sun!
Years of cosmic sighs
Full of loathsome wounds and cries
We the jesters of absolute, staging tragedies to amuse
The one whose applause we'll never hear.
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3. |
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We're at the end of times β those muttering vermin quiver their tongues,
Whilst our eyes are bearing the omen of impetuous judgment.
Bellowing spasmodically from the swelling scourge of their lungs
Merely carrion flies converge on our crowning achievement.
We're all part of a greater plan, this is the true truth - they jotted down
Spinelessly hiding their shadows behind the devil's open doors.
Bring forth your rotting oblation!
Starving into belief, rendered opaque with feign promises
Kneel down to your desire until your ribcages shatter your god-fearing hearts.
Your truth is just an accomplice to futility
The fulcrum of our invaluable knowledge -
Reduced to embers in this global crematorium.
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4. |
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Such is the fate of those bearers of oaths
Encumbered by the weight of musty virtues,
Mired in saturnine madness to besmirch and decompose
Such will be the fate of half-built statues.
Free from the binds of flesh at last
After ages of deepening the mournful quarry.
Reveries of aghast moments remain past
From discordant times of shame and glory.
Have a gander into these broken skulls.
Their lustre fades unheeded 'neath the bleary sky
As if they could still beseech and scream their psalms
To think that even bereft of life they continue to defy.
Whether we've been destined to fall heir to grace
Or rather live like aphids, feeding off each other's misery
There's no denying our consequential common-trace,
Defying life itself becomes the least compelling gesture of impiety.
Be that as it may, whatever doesn't kill you, disappoints the rest of us.
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5. |
Skin Limited
05:15
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I can't remember what I've been or who i am
Emulating masses of dissonant strangers
I can't remember when the line was crossed
Irrevocably impossible to ever turn back.
Exhausting even the uttermost absurd conclusions
To postpone the inescapable demise
O, baneful scions shackled by the terrors of life
Outshone by the terrors of death
Deceived art ye by the sentinels of dismay
Through the urges of being.
One voice of reasoning, lost in the din of many
The more different they get, the more they resemble.
These broken-down monuments will bear witness
The destruction of something other than ourselves
Atoning for the sin of being the misbegotten product
of a flawed paradigm.
I remember only that when i came to die
I discovered that i had never lived.
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6. |
Ekpyrotic Visions
03:23
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Adrift midway these boundless corridors
Yielded by the scorn of lights and shadows
Bringing about the marvels beyond its unplumbed pillars
Marvels of which no man knows
All that was promised
Ingrained in blood and spat back in the eyes of mankind.
Bygone horrors resurfacing at every juncture of silence
Extinguishing the fever of a thousand stellar cores.
Our golden future reeks of rot and brimstone
How mephitic we must be to deserve a world like this.
Adrift midway the infinite cosmic depth
Paralyzed by ruminations that made us sallow
Bringing about the arduous tedium
From within the hollow crown
All that was promised
Became the perfect transfiguration of failure.
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7. |
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The main cause of all this fervor is the speculation
Of the distant and unknowable, subjugating man's paltry sensations.
This is the true source of concerns in the paradise of fools
An affliction much greater than the charms and sorrows of the present
To which the beast is constrained, rooted in a devious storm of passions.
Consolation through the plight of others,
This is the sole form of comfort intrinsic to all.
And what a terrible doom this portends for all of humanity!
Falling like futile sparks from a blacksmith's anvil -
Gone before even hitting the ground.
Empty stares keep bearing down on us.
The whirlwinds of existence spread turmoil
In a sequence of vanishing moments.
Constantly living in hopes for greatness,
All the while regretting and yearning for the past
In the end it was hope that made a fool of us all.
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