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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