Hypnagogic Hallucinations
Instrumental
Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026
As corpse, bury traumas decomposed, they disappear in the subsoil, pulverizing, until every trace of existence disappeares faiding in pain the black fruits of the bad luck, unknowingly gathered already rotten from the tree of life like an altar of perversion contamined by the worms faiding in pain in communion with the celestial body of putrefaction let yourself go and embrace the death with the astral projection
Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026
Sulphur visions seek me into this narrow cave summoning me my nostrils can feel it…. that abhorrent smell again discerning the stench of mutilation over these strange remains The dismal flutes of the wind still afflict my mind reverberation of an ancient pain from the unremembered Oligocene time Dark Cosmos. A stream in the sky guide me toward the dream but the mirage asphyxiates my spirit ..”Tekeli-li” “Tekeli-li” … You cry sour salt, I cry crystals of salt. This horrendous boreal landscape embraces me.
Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026
You must create it as a parasite feeds of his mind to the point of sucking all lymphs, only the relics of a dehydrated plant left to wither under the sun ramain cessation of life in every form.
Submitted by Corpse Defiler — Jun 22, 2026
Fighting bloody wars dismembering emotions from the abstract bodies chasing ghosts of a flattering reality in a whirwind of souls and thoughts diving, in the deeper subconscious more unknown but it dosen't even make sense vain attempts hunting a mere serenity when it's still an open wound and there's nothing else to be done then waiting for the end in a perpetual decay in a constant degradation i hear the buzz of flies and horseflies.
Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026
The deluge rages the water pours slowly on the windscreen as a clot of blood a shapeless mud that exacerbates my movements A choking voice on the phone tells the arrival of a dimension of sorrow Finally i can admire it the design of an open head on the tread [ I see the stars bleeding their incessant flow swallows my gaze my empty white eyes meet each other I see the stars crumbling my frail and tired legs will rest, will rot ] And now the wooden raft cuts through the pond among the water lilies Above, the dead body, the incense on the hands, the butterflies on his wounds, on his griefs It has never been so resplendent She has never been so beautiful.
Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 06, 2026