Pleroma

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Excerpt: The world’s story is a palimpsest: an array of undistilled, unfiltered, kaleidoscopic monologues layered and congealed - despicability and courage intermingled spanning infinite volumes in an unavoidable parable A confrontation with absolute realism that concludes with neither a thirst for utopia nor misanthropic flailing but a willful receipt of the mantle of consciousness a lucid absorption of each season of existence willful transmutation While in the valley of the Locust eager to convey and shine in a gutless, satirical pilot the fifth-rate auditioners summon cultural offal that’s doomed to obscurity trading stabs in a feud with inevitable obsolescence posing coyly on the gangway exhibitionist runts with tailored mystiques defiling the peaks of creative endeavor self-aggrandized, networked to a hollow apex bejeweled in trinitite premiered at the gala of human folly each pathological lackey kneels only at the feet of fellow counterfeit magi fellow propagandists fellow adept peddlers of diluted catharsis Je lepšie zarobiť menej spevom, ako zarobiť viac potichu, len počuť zvonenie mincí. [Translation: “It’s better to earn less singing than to earn more in silence, just to hear the coins ringing.”] Immured within this absurdist maze where “lies are made into a universal system” the true work’s inconspicuous unassumingly tenacious as water eroding Ozymandian monoliths a samizdat outpouring of candor at the risk of death flares of solidarity across time immortal; spared extinction.

Submitted by Sexy Gargoyle — Apr 26, 2025

Excerpt: A sun dial hammered into mutilated contours marking yet another earthly turn yet another mortal flash: histrionic scripts and stimuli unfurled to catalyze and provoke waves of pock-marked, ambivalent murderers denuded of humanity to thrust bayonets through the ribs of their mirror image until numbness is achieved, though the alternative suffices - thermonuclear detonation in the seat of the soul And those who coax and goad acts of obsequious barbarity can only burrow in the twilight of existence in a feeble scramble to outpace condemnation and a limitless, wailing plummet down the chasm of eternal recurrence where their mantras “the very fabric of the world is up for grabs” “the flesh is mine to command and butcher” are intoned by their casualties as calaveras literarias backed by a scordatura trio by a fortissimo hacking of strings sealed in this echo chamber, the domain of those too depraved to relent

Submitted by johnmansley — Apr 26, 2025

This track is instrumental.

Is this song not instrumental?

This track is instrumental.

Is this song not instrumental?

This track is instrumental.

Is this song not instrumental?

Excerpt: Above them presides a double-sided icon: a split, withering, iron pyrite face the totem of our age Before it they prostrate, implore and beseech “Who can I become to please you?” or “Grant me purpose where there is only woe” knowing that one should be all one can knowing that one should whimper, brood, then quip in the depths of willful vacancy, “malignant uselessness” Another drainage ditch is dug sporing dignitaries, cerebral prostitutes, mercenaries, traffickers rabidly clamoring for access to the advantageous crest of the tidal wave to a cache of burning currency to an island of maiming rocks Chained, immolating Ixions cursed with eternal, unquenchable longing Beneath the veneer of flesh and ego, they are feeble, emaciated thieves weeping in a reverberating canyon in the lobby of a gutted skyscraper: the price of cultivated deviance, the abdication of life the narcotic allure of entropy

Submitted by Corpse Grinder — Apr 26, 2025

The silver dove It beckoned me to a burning reel of expired dreams “Pull a tab of my Saturnine cyanide and sleep.” The mourning dove a timbre rich awakened me from my penultimate ditch To an anodyne a panorama: a feeble sign of the wellspring While strangers on a train in a pastel dream of bliss preen for each other’s wry grins, then slip unconsummated to the dining car lusting for mutually assured destruction

Submitted by Cyberwaste — Apr 26, 2025

Excerpt: Each faction gazes at the solar eclipse projecting sacred meaning or lauding uniform meaninglessness And in the burning of retinae an intimation of validation appears The argot, gestures, and shibboleth of each deluded faction are confirmed, vindicated, sanctified A walled-in track of confirmation bias Devolution from venial to cardinal scale In the attempt to pierce the veil of the Unfathomable, unleashed is unfathomable simplification Serenade the wretch again Entangle him in ignorance Cast the inert figurine Impart regression to the mean And the salve of quasi-meditative warmth accompanies a litany of platitudes that praise “a mathematically infallible happiness” for those who can escape to secular, materialist compounds Prefabricated hovels for prefabricated minds Silo-dwellers, applauding legislated enlightenment where Fragrance is sprayed from the sky to obscure the smell of rot while urban trees with plaques capture the beneficent acts of institutional philanthropy All permutations of the same pathology grasping towards coherence all meaning delegated All strain of interpretation outsourced to the engineers of human souls Consent request to kneel and grovel Shepherded from the wickedness of life’s inherent suffering but once extracted from the murk so perishes all dignity and autonomy the cold clarity of a curated Potemkin tomb All cumulative potential reduced to a choice: Which tablet of stone best subdues my restlessness? Which pablum of behavioral dictates thus and forever, steers my nature? All that must be and can be possessed is already possessed and the desperate striving for external consolation defaces the one paradoxical template, which cannot be replicated: the autodidact’s pursuit of total freedom Cowards can only perceive the rejection of nonbeing as a lack of comprehension, an unrefined palette a lack of morbid sophistication failed cultivation of the thirst for the fentanyl of one-dimensional schemes of fulfillment: whether pious or depraved It’s preferable to wander accursed in exile than to abide in permanent self-revulsion indebted to any cult: a languishing receptor pacified

Submitted by Grave666 — Apr 26, 2025

No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.