The Bigotry of Purpose
Handed down from on high By the hands of an impetuous beast Handed down from on high By the hands of an impetuous beast The Obelisk quakes and shivers For all who wish to see A catalyst for new beginnings Possessed obsidian trowel Exudes the will of marble masons Who pave the roads of fate Prometheus Weeps Prometheus Weeps Prometheus Weeps A catalyst for new beginnings Possessed obsidian trowel Exudes the will of marble masons Who pave the roads of fate Prometheus Weeps Prometheus Weeps Prometheus Weeps The apes the yapping mob of whooping imps Throw stones, sticks, and feces Taunting the obelisk Taunting the obelisk Taunting the obelisk Prometheus Weeps Prometheus Weeps Prometheus Weeps Prometheus Weeps
Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Jun 29, 2026
I'll shoulder the yoke and pull him that blonde star, that blazing beast through fields of grain across sheets of ice and stone into the eternal now This, my task driven by burden I, a mule this sphere my marathon Spring blossoms in my tracks he coaxes life from nil and in his gaze she matures and wilts as we go round the bend again and again I'll shoulder the yoke and pull him that blond star, that blazing beast through fields of grain across sheets of ices and stone into the eternal now
Submitted by MetalElf — Jul 21, 2026
We never knew his head and all the light that ripened in his fabled eyes. But his torso still glows like a gas lamp dimmed in which his gaze, lit long ago holds fast and shines. Otherwise the surge of the breast could not blind you, nor a smile run through the slight twist of the loins toward that center where procreation thrived. Otherwise this stone would stand deformed and curt under the shoulders' transparent plunge and not glisten just like wild beasts' fur and not burst forth from all its countours like a star: for there is no place that does not see you. You must change your life
Submitted by MetalElf — Jul 21, 2026
No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.
She gleams that spiteful pearl emanating grace and lunar fecundity I took her willingly I raised my arms to her calling out my surrender Rhiannon, you are the thought that chains his will to dust Rhiannon, your presence lingers as he knows it must Rhiannon, the womb of time may bear you both anew Rhiannon, the prolapse orifice of fate shall see you through My pale bride my ethereal dowry glistens for thee Love-locked to the moon we throbbed and writhed suspended, unchained from time a Gordian knot pulsating above consuming each other consuming our light and soul Bristling and churning in our stalwart embrace a Gladio grasped in her pale white palm the knot is severed and ribless I fall into the underworld Rhiannon, you are my moon and I your dutiful planet in our eternal orbit we shall return to our wedding bed and I will have you again and again and again
Submitted by MetalElf — Jul 21, 2026
The whip curls back and consumes its tail it's barbs, teeth gnaw at themselves The spirit, the will a leaden cosh with which to beat the body sculpting it only to consume it by daily attrition Its supple flesh kissed by leaden phantom lips packing corporeal sand into a fortress only to consume it and rise again From the womb of time out of the caverns of woman the cosh above my head is grasped by the arm bend in anticipation The spirit, the will a leaden cosh with which to beat the body Hark Tis the shanty of agony she dances and trods on our bones one by one we wince and fall one by one we must sing along Tis the ballad of anguish and misery she scrapes and slides in our stomachs one by one we wince and fall one by one we rise once more The whip curls back and consumes its tail The spirit, the will, a cosh with which to beat the body The cosh above my head is grasped by the arm bent in anticipation
Submitted by MetalElf — Jul 21, 2026
Entombed in the gaze of he who wields his own lash are blinders of bronze which tremble with vigour and wrath beneath lie pearls of ink roiling with love of fate, lashed to the wheel of time Honor that which is ingrained venerate those who dream while escaping the binds of the idiot sentinels sacrifices those who revel in sloth upon onyx altars of igneous cruelty Being bends back into itself and must hone the track on which travels Now mount the cosmic lathe with intention as time after time we are ground to dust Amor Fati Amor Mortis Amor Fati Amor Regenerationis
Submitted by MetalElf — Jul 21, 2026