It Weighed Itself In Silver
No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.
Upon the castle coils the serpent, the palatial garland A cozening festoon hanging from above, a noose for the ill-born dove Palace spires spinning, inverted towers drilling To bury itself beneath Achieve velleity in darkened soil Wrapped by the roots of the rotting pines of Omnibrhaemia They left behind the forbidden language, always whispered under tongue But who will help those who scream without a sound? This is the Psylent Wayyy, an opaque silence! New truths well-hidden from the sleepers of the rotting pines, and the dreamers of the pit Whispers by the lurkers behind dark stars An unknown truth: they rest for now, only to become the trees they once feared Clawing at the sky, with their timbered hands, screaming for escape As they are now welded to the weald, a corpse of corpses They weep without an eye, pain without a nerve, and grimace without a face
Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Jun 28, 2026
Procession upon Mezmer's bridge, void underfoot Entranced by its spiralling path, coiling ash and soot Burning of the atom below, dismembered part by part A bridge-constructing golem, as the favoured one Lumbers without the curse of heart The beings outside the void, choking on the atomic stench Skull below Mezmer's bridge, crawling from the empty trench Upon the golem's bridge, a quest for nonexistence Those with the seed of weakness: a poison, a pusling in their chest Seek to end this journey, crawling under bridge Hoping to prolong the cosmos because of cardiac flaw Mezmer's heart, suspended in void Freed of curse by crystal spears Pulls beings down to unchain its hands To rip apart the universe Mezmer's void as cosmic casket Those left behind can only greave As bodies enter, spectres leave
Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Jun 28, 2026
Moaning, aphotic deep Once drowning in its bliss of shadow Enthralled by subsummation, the basking, formless communion Obscures in the shadow sea, sipping upon the black Until the piercing light shone through Reclaiming it all back Avowal to avenge its wronging The plot to destroy the sun Inhaling the nearest shadows Of everything and everyone First the shadows of fish, then the birds As it arose from the ocean floor Then the trees, then the mountains Then all of the beings on the shore All dragged into the ocean, stretching until torn The shadows, still chewed on, call for their owner's presence, forlorn! Beckoning from the deep, pleading for return The shadowless, empty husks aground Wander aimlessly; left to toil, limp, and yearn Lunar shadows then sucked away, never again will they appear The thing, forever sunlit, still deeply hungers The surface scorched, a sun-scorned shell As the star-scum Deneb slumbers Dreaming of another brighter realm As the star-scum Deneb slumbers Dreaming of another brighter realm
Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Jun 28, 2026
Stench pouring from the seabreeze, upon the beach a serpentine mass It drifted overnight Not quite an eel, not quite a squid, not quite a whale, yet very much the same So different that it repulses to view, alien to even name What is this thing? Spanning half the beach, its rotting carcass pollutes the shallows No eyes, no mouth, no movement, no sound Sand is blood-soaked, air is stench-filled, and all is abnormally quiet The seagulls cower upon the peaks of the distant hills The massive thing, too big to even climb, is fully wreathed in limp tendrils And its skin, semi-translucent, reveals dimly glowing viscera The rotting thing is falling apart It's sail-sized fins are nearly gone, leaving a cartilage frame You notice its skin is undullating gently, as if a pressing from beneath The thing's skin moves more, to burst at the other end Pouring for from the rottting hole, a stream of human corpses They crawl towards you, gurgling your name They crawl towards you, gurgling your name Urging for you to become Become the same
Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Jun 28, 2026
"Fire born of my eyes, truth born of my tongue While knowledge blazes in my most frozen mirror Exhausted to the lull, lost in the threshold of its own deceit Torn and fiery lump, that utters the discreet" Hierophantasma, with his many armless hands, ablates the smoulder from flame Physically frozen in atemporal form, but spectrally it proceeds the same He's stealing Arkhiero's truthful smoulder He's presaging Arkhiero's truth through smoke transmission Light is pilfered, truth obscured Bi-eternal death. Erasure of time itself An emptying sky falls as gentle streams The hidden becomes clearer to all who lurk and plunge the deep It burns away Arkhiero's corpse, inhaling their vaporous screams Arkhiero's flame-teared eyes above flash in pain The truth, it seems, reveals the empty vanity of all thought and thing
Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Jun 28, 2026
They're building a tower to the great inversion To enshrine their unending Monolith King They're building a tower to the threshold of discontinuity To bind the unbound and adore the thing With his death, he incepted every triumph He craved for disbecoming, this they must occult He renounced his throne and breath, this they must deny A tune is played: too long to listen, too godly to sing Tall, flexuous phallice; Populace forced to build Cabal of the dignitary, multicursal crypt Instilling it in his veins that never terminate Elegiac inscriptions upon the surface of the spire About the glory of the infinite corpse of the infinite king The ineffable thing souring into toxic cure
Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Jun 28, 2026
Built with parts from those who retch and writhe The fleshy trumpets blare their breathing cry A tone unheard, a vibration unfelt: Behold the bio-mechanical choir of the vocal array! Within a case so long and deep The oozing horns can barely be seen Nor can they be heard, not in the classical sense Encased by non-euclidean glass, that pulls and twists the eye An ensanguined prism pool, tank of acoustic hemorrhaging As the gears underneath turn it emits the subsonic sob of its donors All in arrhythmic, pulsing beats The unutterable wonder of the Psylent Sound A dredging of the abyssal wail Their throats were plucked like petals and their tissues darkly harvested Spoils of the Auto-Ototoxic Terrors from beneath sound itself, heralds of the inconversable Horrors for the now-throatless choir, a disfigurement irreversible A curtained hand always on the crank, spinning the infernal moans Criers of the bleak, the wandering voice without a home Endless rows of towering horns, spitting blood and sound Powered by the forceful heave, whose gears are ever-wound Fear the Auto-Ototoxic cry, fear the Psylent Sound Fear the Auto-Ototoxic cry, fear the Psylent Sound
Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Jun 28, 2026