1. |
Opposites Rendered
04:28
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Deep within the physical dimension
And yet beyond its very
Structure, Psychedelic bonds exist
Between all things.
Fractal architecture.
Reality seems to be an interplay of opposites.
Light dark, pleasure pain; opposing forces are one in the same.
Seen, unseen.
Life and death.
One cannot exist without the other.
One cannot be.
Inside that which binds these sides is
The core of the animus,
That which experiences.
Opposites rendering.
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2. |
Apocrypha
04:16
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They moved, ate and slept, paid no attention,
Accepted their masters gifts, asked no questions.
Identity trade for a fallible safety,
Blinded by deceit, prisoners of their own apathy.
Through mass hypnosis and fear mongering,
With promises of a better world, they remained under control.
At the end of the line, when they looked back,
They wondered how their supposed utopia cracked.
In those reflections, they still could not see:
Salvation never comes from forced equality.
Drenched in sick propaganda,
False truths and intricate lies,
They sucked it down, placated by the taste,
Rather than listening to that voice inside.
Drenched in sick propaganda,
False truths and intricate lies,
They sucked it down, placated by the taste,
Rather than listening to that voice inside.
Collective thought destroyed resistance.
Without the will of the individual,
What choice was left to the waking mind?
Without the will of the individual,
The potential for failure or success,
What room was left for fulfillment?
The individual lifelong struggle was the journey.
The tribulations were in finding their inner selves.
To embolden the blessed soul, the given soul.
To embolden the blessed soul, the given soul, the precious gift, rather than
Getting lost inside of the hive.
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3. |
Epithets for Canticles
04:36
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Lost in essence without animation,
Rejections of conscious physicality,
Stalked the movements of those blessed with
Life and mortal temptation.
Avarice built over ages of watching
These temporary sparks of radiance
Glow, wither and die,
Passing through God’s eye.
Lost in essence without animation,
Rejections of conscious physicality,
Avarice built over ages of watching
These temporary sparks of radiance
Glow, wither and die,
Passing through God’s eye.
Resentment and hatred
Birthed from the lather
Of time mixed with their jealousy
And restlessness.
After eons of searching, with endless analysis,
A gateway into life was found in the states of dreams,
Riding the line between REM and consciousness,
Their vehicles of excarnation found purchase.
Engines fueled by consuming the spirals of imagination,
Churning through the fields of sleeping minds.
Churn through
The fields
Sleeping minds.
Seeing
Smelling
Tasting
Through the eyes of the hollow,
Perception is transformed.
To witness the substance
Of a world they’d never known.
Through the eyes of the hollow,
Perception is transformed.
To witness the substance
Of a world they’d never known.
Churning through the fields of the sleeping minds, excreting the souls
And enslaving the bodies as machines,
As machines.
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4. |
Tortured Existence
04:46
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In the exosphere the Old Ones writhe.
Acolytes with their rituals and fathers of the Lie
Gather to sing praise into the evil ones' eyes
And bow their heads, moving forward to their own demise.
The horrors float on through the sky,
The sun’s light ripening in the
Exhaust of the god-like constructs that feed
On the very air we breathe.
Tortured existence.
Tortured existence.
The followers all gaze at the black stellar beings,
The ground underneath them dissolves into streams,
Awakening the sleepers from their old rest
And unleashing a terror in some cruel god’s jest.
They waited for millennia to exact their dark plans,
To animate the flesh of the broken and the dead.
Through necromancy we become
Puppets of the black will
With only one mission in mind:
Kill, kill.
Pray, bow, beg forgiveness of the light.
Pray, bow, trapped forever in hindsight.
Pray, bow.
Pray, bow.
The masses all swarmed the earth, living marionettes,
Spreading the disease of sorrow and deep regret
For the actions they took, in times of superstition, summoned not a savior but destroyers from other dimensions.
This will push all of us to the very edge.
That was their plan all along, to make our world bend.
To make our world bend.
This will push all of us to the very edge.
That was their plan all along, to make our world bend
To their wills.
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5. |
Servants of the Witch
04:22
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Crows lined the gabled rooftops of the crypt in which she slept—
No stars, no moon—cawing into a night that crept.
Beyond them hummed closed mouths, shrouded procession,
Speaking incantations for infernal perception.
Into the fires, they gave sacrifice.
From the ashes, she spoke thrice.
Stoke the flames, undeath is required.
Sear me.
Tell me, tell me, children of Nod;
Whom do you cherish, me or God?
Then Death walked her into the flames,
As her faithful servants looked upon the flesh
And sang,
Their eyes glowing with possession.
The sight
To see all that could be
Dwelt within the rewards of obsession.
Rewards of obsession.
Then the ground gave way.
Dust, emptiness, intent, hunger
She rises.
She fed on their organs.
She fed on their organs,
While they sang her praise.
The blood filled her bones,
Mutating her to her natural state.
A sight so hideous,
Grotesquerie for all to see.
Grotesque.
Grotesque.
Grotesque.
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