Age of Excuse

A species had been armed with a double edged blade A guardless weapon of delusion Forged of a mirage of inherent transcendence In the tangled mechanisms of life itself As the curtain is being unraveled The ego writhes in a spasm of insight Delighted gods grunt like pigs At the mere notion of a raison d'etre From the gardens of Semiramis To the trenches of Ypres A meaningless uproar Sublime truths are revealed In the hammering of hobnailed jackboots And there's wisdom to be found In the shameful epitaphs of cowards From the gardens of Semiramis To the trenches of Ypres From the grounds of Comitium To the cellars of Tuol Sleng From the spores of presence And a swarm of pest Unto the ironies of being Falling hopes whip the ground Among laments of sunken millennia There are no paths to follow But a nightmare of endless repetition Those who peruse the annals of humanity Demanding patterns, connections, developments: Were there any to be found? And was it sapience indeed that kept pushing this broken cart? The wonders The misery The ascent The emptiness Falling hopes whip the ground Among laments of sunken millennia There are no paths to follow But a nightmare of endless repetition

Submitted by johnmansley — Apr 26, 2025

The stench of Zeitgeist Is the incense of discarded shrines As the corpses put on powder and rouge So that the hoax can proceed, ever sidewards A cheaped out incarnation into a shopworn sarx The soul congeals into a grimy lump - Substance of the world, dreary and pale At the feet of a spirit detached Between the grinder and the abattoir Such are the landscapes of grief Grayness and glitz Glitter and gehinnom Between tedium and fright Such is the song of the nether world The hissing of rats And the jarring chants of angels A sacrifice to the gutter gods Squandered redemption, misplaced grace As an ailing mole burrowing in Eden Living breathing downfall Between the grinder and the abattoir Such are the landscapes of grief Grayness and glitz Glitter and gehinnom Between tedium and fright Such is the song of the nether world The hissing of rats And the jarring chants of angels It's a land of sun gone down In comical grandeur A sluggish danse macabre Hyenas waltzing about Would a new flood please finally come A real rain and an assortment of plagues And when all is said and done Even the Devil won't care enough to spit in the mud

Submitted by Morgoth — Apr 26, 2025

Out of howling of prophets And curses of the righteous In the ivory halls A new kind of champion is bred Herostrates for the modern day High on good conscience A noblest of sufferers On disinformation highway At the end of the day it's the same old script: Do you believe in victory or do you hail defeat Those finaglers of justice Expert wrights in deceit Carvers of the crooked timber And their finely tuned farce Proclaiming anger and rage Under the mortal threat it thrives At the end of the day it's the same old script: Do you believe in victory or do you hail defeat Ersatz revolt Ersatz rebellion For a new world would come Every once in a while "Purer", "brighter", "clearer", "better" And the last of misbelievers Will be trampled in the greatest of marches Toward the radiant future Where sheep are promised fangs And only after the graves are filled With remains of dissidents And the frame of reference is torched Together with forbidden thoughts Then, and only then The disciple is relieved The true believer has overcome the evils Of engineering of dissent At the bottom of things it's the same old script: Do you believe in victory or do you hail defeat Ersatz revolt Ersatz rebellion For a new world would come Every once in a while "Purer", "brighter", "clearer", "better" Ersatz purpose Ersatz alliance Ersatz ideals Ersatz communion

Submitted by Nargaroth — Apr 26, 2025

Ground zero of transgression: Whether ironic distance is true subversion As it is carved in the structure Of the system being opposed Therefore the language of the scourge Should be instilled in further discourse The language of strife and hunger In a state of relentless panic Henceforth the struggle takes form Of an absolute order, a total institution The clandestine laws of the night Should be exposed in broad daylight Mocked by many - known by the few The arsonists of perpetual aporia Acknowledge the presence of a sinister side That reaches far and wide beneath the surface Acknowledge that there are aspects of self Only to be revealed in burning, blinding hatred The blades shall be sharpened Upon gravestones of "kind" hearted The measures shall be chosen For maximum impact upon illusion of safety The ordnance which will tear Into the heart of daydream Shall become the testament Of the hopeless quest of prelest prophets Acknowledge healthy confusion, the dirt behind the reverie Unearth madness and probe into the absurd Deconstruct with no promise of a restore pattern And become free through the truth of the prelest prophets

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Apr 26, 2025

The gruesome caravan is crawling in circles Around pillars of cold grey light Pale horse is there, but the rider's away on business And the lion went roaring somewhere else It's a begging time for dissolution The commodity of ultimate silence on public display The living dead stare at the gaping void Waiting for the blade to finally come down Not just yet There's still innards to be ripped out And hanged between the sacred trees Bones to be broken, eyes to be plucked For the amusement of a drooling god Born again in a tidal wave of filth Amidst chants of suffocating angels An offering to a ravenous idol That'll take more pleasure in puking it out Gnawed and spat out Still good enough for lowbrow vultures Torn and led astray Fed scraps of hope until the banal end A bargain pilgrimage to the heart of darkness The stay got extended quite a good bit View is always the same: sorrow upon sorrow And the orchestra keeps playing same song on repeat A canticle arranged for gnashing of teeth Howling of hearts and cracking of spines And there's a hundred eager razors Underneath the conductor's suit Gnawed and spat out Still good enough for lowbrow vultures Torn and led astray Fed scraps of hope until the banal end In this rotten excuse for a world At the bottom of the dustbin of history Let's just try and pretend That our corpses still have some class The cold light The gaping void The final silence At the fingertips The cold light The gaping void The broken cycle Not just yet

Submitted by Dahmers Fridge — Apr 26, 2025

Forever uphill atop the remains Of missed chances, of hope and innocence The withered bones of those who failed But more so of those who didn't even try Bursting through the barbed thickets Sharp with guilt, deceit and shame To the petty truths buried underneath Layers and layers of drivel and mud In this day and age The litanies of overskurkens moral Are the only prayers to be heard these days And all those who dreamt about a True Revolution Got distracted by hurting each other What has to be done, has to be done The human nature is what it is We cover our eyes in a call to arms And turn one edge toward ourselves Arm in arm in this futile strife Where cards are marked and odds are little to none Hand in hand with fate worse than death Relentless in discontent In this day and age Empires get wrecked Principles get crushed Saviors get crucified History gets what? History fucking gets over it all And the assassins in rose tinted glasses At the wrong end of the tunnel of light Practitioners of paramount scorn And those who'd rig moral compass rather than bridges Behold the world and spit on it The noble and the scum of the earth Just out of some basic damned dignity In this day and age of excuse What has to be done, has to be done The human nature is what it is We cover our eyes in a call to arms And turn one edge toward ourselves Arm in arm in this futile strife Where cards are marked and odds are little to none Hand in hand with fate worse than death Relentless in discontent What has to be done, has to be done The human nature is what it is We cover our eyes in a call to arms And turn one edge toward ourselves

Submitted by Corpse Grinder — Apr 26, 2025