A Murderous Circus

Faceless, numberless days, grey isolation Time featureless crushing hope Intense corrupted Bliss moments Nothing, the Machine Everything grinds us down Escape until we seep, Nothing, the blackened soil Flying in elegant circles, drift through time and space Crumble under the wight of sheer intense bliss Where everything is nothing and nothing - everything It is a meaningless dream from which we need to escape? Tear at the psyche To bring us down Where everything is nothing And nothing everything Delve through the ether, drown in emptiness I need nothing, I want it all I need nothing I want the world to crawl Somewhere in its depths Lies what we have been looking for I need nothing I want it all I need nothing I want the world to crawl Flying in elegant circles, drifting through time Crumble under the weight of sheer intense bliss Where everything is nothing and nothing - everything Is it a meaningless dream From which we need to escape? Tear at the psyche to bring us down The machine rolls through town

Submitted by Corpse Grinder — Apr 24, 2025

It's cold (so fucking cold) A sordid trip to the bowels of creation The seductive wasteland, marrow of the world That gentle melancholy that so endeared in times past It seems to hang with an unnerving ease I've been here before but now it seems there is no way out There is now way out but down, the ante chambers to nothing The terror scratching at the surface of sanity Eyes are plucked The jackals are coming Hands are bleeding Raw from the scratching Freedom lies The depths of Lies Freedom lies Through the ether Elemental nausea Free to stagnate Grinding elation Oppressive opiates Residue of flesh Through the ether

Submitted by NecroLord — Apr 24, 2025

The dregs of the morning drift by greeting us with leaden winged despair So come down It clasps with crooked hands and tears at the torso, ripping the flesh So come down It leaves but the scum, filth of the earth, stranded poisonous Soak up the arid wasteland through every fibre of my being Hold on to the high crashing wave, it may be our only chance of escape So come down, come down with me, it may be our only chance of escape Lurking in the shadows psychological self loathing violent desire Slaughter the first born the debris of joy it's all that's left But this is my only chance of escape the crashing wave So I'll hold on until I crumble under the weight A stagnant pit of twisted bones and contorted features wrapped in flesh Yet stranded to wallow between the walls of destruction A vacuum created by the desolation and loss of hope a sigh A sigh, a fatal glance to the fading pain that crouches in the corner For the night is upon us, the triumphant return of joy Immortality, intensity the need to escape It seems to be coming through in waves the need to escape And beneath its swell the search for absolution continues it's downward spiral I wade through the fifth, terminal hope Its infectious this murder Its infectious, this murderous circus

Submitted by Corpse Grinder — Apr 24, 2025

A figure of despair staring into the nothingness, lost among life suckers. So small standing by the ocean sensing the rain, worn out from grieving through a storm of rage.I have succumbed to sorrow, the hoary darkness and the all-consuming silence, for I had such hopes and dreams, dreams that fell like vapours throug the summer air. I had such thoughts, thoughts that would crush mountains and blunt the very daggers to my heart and yet the mere sliver of hope sent to the corner to be lost among life's pain.... immortal. My bones are weary; weary from this malignant mortality we hold on to with such grim despair that it becomes all-consuming. In the glowering sickly green depths of my misery I've drank deep textures and grotesque ecstacy it's elementary splendour reminded of the labyrinthine intricacies of being, the squalor, the bewildering diversities and its lonely existence. A journey through a half dream, each step a death. To slip right through the cracks unnoticed or pause and question the meanderings of time. The grey vastness we hold onto, The glum adhesive that binds us through. No! Hark! A footfall, the march of death A hollow call to arms from the grave A curator of dead souls brings us down Is it a shadow of life or just some vision? Apocalyptic dreams Hark! A curator of our dead souls Who is it that walks so solemnly through the graves? Is it a shadow or just some vision? Apocalyptic dream Tracing patterns to bring us down Who is it that walks? The March of Death

Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Apr 24, 2025

Fall Somewhere between the chaos and sulphurous light Into that strange arena where attraction and repulsion meet Where love and hate divides, only to meet at a point Aeons spent dragging the mortal trash through a slow existence, its worn me down I've emptied my veins into the earth for the last time as the weight of death creeps through the silence - nothing prepared me for this The space where my misery breathes has worn me down I've emptied my veins into the earth for the last time I've drank from the depths of the world And poured my cup on the heavens The dull playground Between the chaos and explosive stillness Where light and dark serve a purpose To which humanity must bend The trouble is I though we'd live forever The truth is we were dead before we were born If I wake again it will be in hell If I see you again it will be in hell Desire and suffering, the source of our delusions They are only the extreme points to which we bend Where the need for excess brings balance No more torture, no more pain It's pouring through my veins No more torture, no more pain

Submitted by Dahmers Fridge — Apr 24, 2025