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31 - The museum of Anomalies
I'm alive in my grave Last one to die, Turn off the lights and walk away as the door slams
6am, an unvolontary doppelganger DMT and DMC night aftermath, an accidental poet God never speaks and he never listens Comfortable suicide in a rainy morning Can't shake this trend I've fallen into The pale rays warm my skin They warm my blood for then the sharks come Your future self is watching you right now through memories, through three dreams
Why every time you think about death, you end up taking a deep breath?
It's just dead air, the devil has three heads The fields have eyes, The trees have ears The planes are falling out of the sky I hope they get me in my sleep then I want to wake up with three cuts on my lips.
Tell me now that I'm nothin' but memories I get it girl, that's what I want Tell me now that I'm nothin' but memories I get it girl, I'm not the one
In a foreign field, I lay lonely soldier, unknown grave I'm the one who bares fangs at god Man cannot erase this sadness, because all men are fundamentally alone.
No hope, No home, No problem. no amount of sleep in the world, could cure the tiredness I feel. The fear of blood tends to create fear for the flesh Absolved of the light, bite the neck to stop the breathing the Slithering Shadow with a hundred faces and a thousand whispers
Quiescent and obscured ; I'm so fucked up Forgive me, monkey head. I was absorbed in thoughts Blank stares across the room taking the dead broadcast all ambitions disappear waiting for our lives to pass.
A diary carved in the metal, nobody has to read, like or understand it, except you and you alone. I keep screaming these words so loud but they'll never make sound.
Breeze in a monochrome night, Mercury into my veins, pilled old books on the floor There's nothing to celebrate In my restless dreams, I see that town, dancing in my mind You promised you'd take me there again someday But you never did
There's too much light in this room There was a hole here, on this wall It's gone now, It's easier just to run, besides, it's what we deserve The door that wakes in darkness, Opening into nightmares.
Dismis this life, Save satan worship death, glare of the end; I've hated only three times in my life Fuck what you have built my hate is stronger than your faith.
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32 - The corridor process
Just think Think how things used to be Just breathe Take a breath of Hell into your being:
Seven children singing in circle as the eclipse begins Baptized in rape and bludgeoned Sacrificed by the hands that love them Rites begin when the sun descends
It's plain for all to see, how you can't hide the woe You have lost existence; lay poisoned and envenomed. Cold as ice in a pit of darkness Even when you sleep, it doesn't stop Wasting away your whole life The black veil that hides all the lies Latching onto ones that you despise. God has committed suicide
There's only blackness left, from an abhorrent cult, Born from a forgotten bargain with the Glenmoril coven, Elisabeth de Ranfaing, infested and raped. Her eyes, horizontally cutted with a scalpel, Her dreams, surgically extracted from the cranium. Sulfur fragrance fills the air, while her carcass ranimates.
Now you realize, the depth of your actions Your soul is dead, but alive is your rotten flesh They are so fucking sick of you Diagnosed in cephalonomancy in a profaned sanctuary The mist lingering over the lakes, now cesspools of infant remains Clears to reveal a mountainous landscape of piled cadavers Rotted and wasted away, every life code is abandoned.
Under the gray esbat, I am a mortal, but am I human? Guided into serenity, shrouded by the swarm As you take these lifeless children hand in hand and walk across the cathedral floor Your mind paints a glorious picture of vile vultures and carnage serpents.
Sounds screeching from inside the walls Voices from the cellar, whispers from the attic They call you with secret tongues from a ruinous prophecy To ensure your possession (x2)
Feasting off screams of your victims Making forbidden incisions with your dirt filled nails Terror of lives from reflections of knives Singing a carillon lullaby with a broken syringe
You hear the voices, swallowing, engulfing, yelling so horrible The calling of a hideous name Speak again those blasphemous rhymes Leave your eyeless body, into convulsions. Devoured by darkness, the blackest speech seeped into your soul, Proclaiming an eternal covenant of divine abomination.
It's ending now they've said, the evisceration begins: You feel your flesh being pulled from the bones Your entrails scattered, it's inside of you now Agonizing in your broken body, rised up from the floor Your contorted legs with exposed bones, something is still making them move, like a puppeteer moving a stringed doll. With reversed eyes, and sprained fingers Now a lifeless decayed being, conscious raptus in terror.
Murder them, a mass of haunted shrieks Tortured screams and blackened blood Behind your secret locked door, Feet suspended, above the floor.
The motherless saints hung from the ceiling: The echo of their screams sing like a gospel melody. Decapitated was the possessed priest of infanticide, The son of god died for his own sins, certainly not mine.
Your schizo-phranic illusionary fantasy Mutilating your soul from the inside out Worship the crucified miscarriage, Ripped from a whore's womb, Pelt of newborn flesh, Hail to the Tyrant (x2)
This is what you've become I can see her at the end of the corridor, A monstrous silhouette with a crown of black thorns. She bears no shadow She sees me now
Deliver us This is the dead season Deliver us Feast your own son Deliver us We are all flesh coffins Deliver us We are dead Deliver us As above, so below
Amen
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26 - Evergloom in sleepcity
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You won't be awake when They come ethereal beyondeness stonce Zachodzi Loneliness is beautiful in its ability to make one bigger in themselves.
Deal with the unnameable and unaccountable horror that leer down from external universes. Something breathing as above the sky canopy as under your bed Fingers crossed and trembling in fear under your covers, you can't move, Clocks articulate the silence with their ticky songs. The beauty of terror
Unconscious, narcotic nightmares This house is soaked in memories and nostalgia, things long gone, vague and far more than terrestrial, wild thy streams of violet midnight glittering with dust of gold; half - luminous clouds as background decomposing smiles light up in the room
some Things cannot be described there's no language for such abysms immemorial terror
Lights out The wind's dancing outside, swirling out of the ultimate melancholy and heavy perfumes from beyond the worlds; Closed doors can't keep your secrets these walls won't hold your whispers; blue, green, grey, black or white, smooth, ruffled or mountainous the ocean is not silent salty fragrant with lotus blossoms, starred by red ink, Abhorrent eyes staring at the ships from beneath; the ocean is not silent.
They know where you sleep you are not alone
please don't wake up; please don't wake up noiseless infinity eddied around the dreamer without touching the body; allowing the maggots to bloom. In the end god never cared, how does it feel to be forsaken? please don't wake up; please don't wake up please don't wake up
Lights out The wind's dancing outside bitter opiace oceans outside the window Closed doors can't keep your secrets litten by suns and strange whales of unrememberable depths these walls won't hold your whispers only poetry of madness could do justice to the noises.
The beauty of terror
The Arrival-esque noises create the eeriness, while the relentless sub-beats add the intensity and really shakes and disturbs your core. A black widow crawls out of your paralyzed mouth.
Whilst darkness quickly thickens They are coming You can feel the horrid frost under the covers grinding cold that's Their vanguard They are coming They are here, They are here clocks repeats their ticky songs an overwhelming sense of agony grips your body your memories aren't the only things sealed here
Please don't wake up
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33- Heroin (For Those Who Rend Asunder)
It's a warm summer night out for drinks with a few hologram friends to try and forget what you don't want to remember yet with the same taunting song playing from a few streets away with the neon lights glowing behind you
How much do I really have, When I wish every breath would be my last? Cutted wrists, opened like cursed books They call it the coward's way out, I call it courage, yah.
Tragedy still find us, we're all marked for death Don't look for me in the clouds When I am beneath you nowhere to be found I forgot why I stayed; playing Sad satan Tired of feeling like I'm wrapped in a damn lie Tired of feeling like I'm trapped in my damn mind Killing myself trying to live Don't let it rise Keep the ghost locked inside More blurry nights and bloodshot eyes I won't find inner peace tonight You got a deep cut for the first time in your life, Instead of bones and blood, you saw wires.
This is my room becoming a tomb And a dying dream is the only view   What have I become? I've dug two graves Addicted to pain, addicted to hate I'm not proud of this, Do I even exist?
Uncontrolled, you shake, gripping your hands in fists Desperately you try to monitor your breathing In. Out. In. Out. Focus your eyes on the dirty mirror on the wall of the claustrophobic bathroom In. Out. In. Out. Suddenly from the party outside, you hear the first chords of what's only a memory That song echoed through your head as you lied on the floor This is oddly calming. No love. Once more:
In. Out. In. Out. I'm the one at fault
Dance in the morgue, break down and cry, then dance again Everything flows and all is connected There's nothing to fear, you're not blessed The fault is my own, buried undressed.
You'll never be beautiful to me As I lift up the sheet for the coroner Wrists opened like books I can still hear your screams, not from your mouth, they're coming from your wounds.
You'll never be beautiful to me They call it the coward's way out, I call it courage The amber flames lick your tortured face Our bodies melt, then they interlace.
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