A Pact with Madness
In this region the winds whisper a rumour of a being A hermit banal, with a mind frail as his frame. When he speaks it is in violent bursts And insects recoil from his voice. He speaks to the trees For they are the only truly living creatures on this earth. They share his misanthropic view and converse on wild topics They are both arrogant, the tree digs it's roots deeper as the soil rejects it's clasp And the hermit deeper animates the notions of the world, as the world casts him into the abyss. "I respect you because whether in drought or flood You always seem to grow, and expand the length of your skeletal branches They claw at the sky and reach out to strangle The exiting order, the prevailing lie. I draw influence from your stubborn attempt To steal the watery lifeforce of fellow nature for your own purpose"
Submitted by Warbringer — Apr 26, 2025
He drowns in the serenity of plain Waves of thought crash on barren skull walls Thunder is the catalyst for meditation, rain the bringer of peace. He plagued by very coffin which is ecstasy. Concocting poisons to throw in the river To poison the inhabitants of the outskirts of his swampy empire He bestows upon them the freedon to starve While they build their coffins out of marble, clay and pine. And rejoice in their madness. Anything which is not in the immediate circle of power of mystic experience Is not worth any mercy nor even contemplation... Only peril
Submitted by Infernal Flame — Apr 26, 2025
Slowly, through hologram portals Chery surface cold, unmoving Following the deluded trail of slime Through every equinox and winding path Following innumerable noughts Casting their gaze towards the ground Leper colonies breading like flies Kingdom of the blind What king would rule all this? The smell of ritual fire and dry earth greets the hermit. In silence is the loudest voice found. The inner temper, the inner adversary The inner peak, waiting to Boer reached Again and again...
After meeting the spark of all that breathes and bleeds How could I leave with my pride and sanity intact? By understanding of the world in ruins By image blurred By I in doubt By soul at one with nothing. I lurk amongst the waters I can see but cannot hear And inside I cannot hear In this secluded environment I can sit and manifest the mystical practices of old A bark pillar grows within me, stone overturns stone Until my soul is nought but rock, hard as my conviction All life is merely passing phase, a breeding ground For vermin, filthy as they are naive So as I hold in my hand this burning bush of sacred herbs, So in my pillar of heart I hold contempt for all life in this realm And it is contempt that fuels my thirst for pure knowledge...
Submitted by Morgoth — Apr 26, 2025
To brown all and any sparks of light Seems to be the only semi-comprehensive goal Present in the hermit's slippery brain. (His thoughts writhe almost as if They were the embodiment of coiled serpent Slowly eating and digesting itself, unawares...) To drown the self in the murky depths of the self Layer by worthless layer the soul is peeled of its breath. By virtue of non-action the modern sadists get their fir Kobed in wounds teething with pus Gathering dust Screaming in torturous tongues Spinning webs of lies. Every miserable corner of the earth is the same.
Submitted by Infernal Flame — Apr 26, 2025
"And it will whisper to me secrets of the world... ...There will come a time When a golden worm will gnaw it's way into the center of my skull. It will whisper to me secrets of the world And unfold truths to which I have been blind. At this point I will utter final curses And promptly hang myself So that I may achieve an immense amount of spite By holding back all the knowledge gained At the conclusion of my life."
Submitted by Grave666 — Apr 26, 2025
This track is instrumental.