Entropia Humana Final

(In 1995, in the attic of the building that once was the “Willard Asylum for the Chronic Insane”, about 400 old suitcases were found. They contained the personal belongings brought by the inmates upon arrival. Kept forgotten for many decades, these items exemplify what oblivion is about) Um par de sapatos Um espelho quebrado Uma carta sem destino Flores desbotadas Numa mala de couro, no fundo de um sótão Paredes enegrecidas de um velho asilo Vidas apagadas, memórias esquecidas Rostos desconhecidos naquela velha fotografia Pacientes trancados pelo resto de suas vidas A noite chegou O fim de suas jornadas Entre aqueles muros... Suas lembranças foram sepultadas E as luzes se apagaram Lágrimas secas, atravessando os tempos Você ainda pode ouvir os seus suspiros? [English translation:] A pair of shoes A broken mirror A letter without destination Worn-out flowers In a leather suitcase, in the back of an attic Darkened walls of an old asylum Erased lives, forgotten memories Unknown faces in that old picture Patients locked in for the rest of their lives Night has fallen The end of their journeys Between those walls... Their memories were sealed shut And lights went out Dried tears crossing through times Can you still hear their whispers?

Submitted by Pestilence — Apr 25, 2025

(Taken from Cruz e Sousa’s 1893 “Broquéis”.) Ó Formas alvas, brancas, Formas claras De luares, de neves, de neblinas!... Ó Formas vagas, fluidas, cristalinas... Incensos dos turíbulos das aras... Formas do Amor, constelarmente puras, De Virgens e de Santas vaporosas... Brilhos errantes, mádidas frescuras E dolências de lírios e de rosas... Indefiníveis músicas supremas, Harmonias da Cor e do Perfume... Horas do Ocaso, trêmulas, extremas, Réquiem do Sol que a Dor da Luz resume... Visões, salmos e cânticos serenos, Surdinas de órgãos flébeis, soluçantes... Dormências de volúpicos venenos Sutis e suaves, mórbidos, radiantes... Infinitos espíritos dispersos, Inefáveis, edênicos, aéreos, Fecundai o Mistério destes versos Com a chama ideal de todos os mistérios. Do Sonho as mais azuis diafaneidades Que fuljam, que na Estrofe se levantem E as emoções, todas as castidades Da alma do Verso, pelos versos cantem. Que o pólen de ouro dos mais finos astros Fecunde e inflame a rima clara e ardente... Que brilhe a correção dos alabastros Sonoramente, luminosamente. Forças originais, essência, graça De carnes de mulher, delicadezas... Todo esse eflúvio que por ondas passa Do Éter nas róseas e áureas correntezas... Cristais diluídos de clarões álacres, Desejos, vibrações, ânsias, alentos, Fulvas vitórias, triunfamentos acres, Os mais estranhos estremecimentos... Flores negras do tédio e flores vagas De amores vãos, tantálicos, doentios... Fundas vermelhidões de velhas chagas Em sangue, abertas, escorrendo em rios... Tudo! vivo e nervoso e quente e forte, Nos turbilhões quiméricos do Sonho, Passe, cantando, ante o perfil medonho E o tropel cabalístico da Morte... [English translation:] Oh White, Ivory Forms, Clear Forms Of moonlights, of snow, and of mists! Oh vague, fluid and crystalline forms... Incenses of the burners of the Altars Forms of Love, constellarly pure, Of Virgins and steaming Saints... Wandering brightnesses, moisty freshnesses And sufferings of lilies and roses... Undefinable supreme songs, Harmonies of the Color and of the Perfume... Hours of Sunset, trembling, extreme, Requiem of the Sun that the Pain of Light synthesizes... Serene visions, psalms and songs, Mutes of weeping and sobbing organs... Numbnesses of erotic poisons That are subtle, soft, morbid and radiant... Infinite scattered spirits, Ineffable, edenic, aerial, Do fecundate the Mystery of these verses With the ideal flame of all mysteries. From the Dream the bluest diaphaneities Let them shine, let them rise on the stanza And the emotions, all the chastities From the soul of the Verse, by the verses sing on. That the golden pollen of the finest stars Fecundate and ignite the clear and burning rhyme... Let shine the retitude of the alabasters Sonorously, brightly. Original forces, essence, grace Of woman's flesh, delicacies... All this effluvium that passes through waves From the Ether in the rosy and golden streams... Diluted crystals of vivid flashes, Desires, vibrations, cravings, reliefs Crimson victories, bitter triumphs, The most strange tremblings... Black flowers of boredom and vague flowers Of vain, tantalic and sickly loves... Deep rednesses of old wounds In blood, open, streaming in rivers... All! Alive and nervous and warm and strong, In the chimerical whirlwinds of the Dream, Tread, singing, before the hideous profile And the cabalistic throng of Death...

Submitted by BloodShrine — Apr 25, 2025

(Homage to our conductor Irala, who keeps the Theory alive.) Genialidade exacerba notas Ensinos da vida ardil Sentimentos confusos Em mente original e nervosa Maestro sóbrio Turbilhão de sons Maestro sóbrio Vento impetuoso que sopra Expurga o fel da vida Amendronta o outro Com a mais pura desgraça Fúria venosa Entrega na mais nobre das artes O cuidado na peça musical Expressa sentimentos fortes Na magistralidade das cordas Extraordinária paixão – passamento [English translation:] Genius that abounds notes Lessons from the arduous life Confused feelings In an original and fired-up mindset Sober regent A whirlwind of sounds Sober regent Unrelenting wind that blows Purges the gall from life Frightens the other one With the purest ruin Venous fury Deliverance in the noblest of arts The care dispensed in the musical piece Expresses strong feelings In the magistrality of strings Extraordinary passion - passing away

Submitted by Sexy Gargoyle — Apr 25, 2025

(In 1932-33, Ukraine was under soviet rule. Harsh repression and collectivization policies carried out on Stalin’s orders led to the famine known as the “Holodomor”, in which between 2 and 7 million ukrainians starved to death.) Infinita campina de ermo Que outrora transbordava grão Um povo talhado enfermo Drenado de todo o seu pão Comissários fiscais da miséria Vasculham gavetas e frestas Empunham caretas infestas Esbaldam festiva pilhéria Marasmáticos homens inermes Inchados por parco aporte Aguardam, assim como os vermes A lenta chegada da morte Opostos na vasta planície Burocratas brindam em júbilo Força de aço, dedos em riste Triunfo do estandarte rubro E o que primeiro perece Provê alívio ao segundo Que a seu instinto obedece Em um canibalismo imundo Crias no limite da vida Nutrem pais barbarizados E pais com prudência devida Deixam órfãos abandonados Peste! Guerra! Fome! Morte! Cadáveres povoam as ruas, As casas, e os descampados Despejados em covas cruas Sem datas, nomes apagados E o silêncio domina os campos Tomados por erva daninha Ensurdece todos os santos A humanidade definha... [English translation:] An endless crop of wastelands That once abounded grain A people with illness carved in it By the drainage of all its bread Kommissars, overseers of scarcity Plunder through drawers and gaps Enjoying a mockful festiveness While wielding eerie facemasks Marasmic, inerm men Swollen by poor intake Await, just like the worms The slow arrival of death Opposed in the vast plains Bureaucrats celebrate, jubilant Power of steel, rised fingers Thriumph of the Red Standard And the first who perishes Provides relief to the second Who to his instinct capitulates In a filthy cannibalism Offsprings on the edge of life Nurture barbarized parents Parents with enough prudence Leave abandoned orphans Pestilence! War! Famine! Death! Corpses populate the streets The houses and the open fields Throwed into raw graves No dates, erased names And silence dominates The weed-ridden fields Deafening all saints Humanity withers...

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Apr 25, 2025

(In 1934, Adolf Hitler cemented his position as supreme leader of Nazi Germany by ordering a swift execution of the whole leadership of the then largest paramilitary group in the Reich: the Sturmabteilung (SA). The purge included Hitler’s longtime friend and second in nazy hierarchy, Ernst Röhm. The episode became known as the “Night of the Long Knives”.) De belicoso caos pavimentou-se O leito vil de um rio austero Que em implacável purga trouxe O alvorecer de um novo clero Avenidas afora, moradas adentro A nova palavra vai sendo marcada Brasa na pele em diverso intento Ou tinta de pena em tábula rasa Tropa de choque na zona de risco Ufana utopias em ricas ideias Afã guerreiro de nobre patrício Dragonas vãs das massas plebeias O cânone novo se torna total Os antagonistas se entocam, à míngua Tremores de pânico, temor sem igual Cautela mortal a deslizes da língua Vícios puros do caos construtor Emergem e ofuscam a vitória da fé Expurgados serão num golpe indolor Com nenhum ímpio restando em pé Apagadas da história, obliteradas Rasgadas as páginas torpes, imundas Extirpado o cancro de eras findadas Com punhais longos, feridas profundas [English translation:] From a bellicose chaos it paved itself The vile bed of an austere river That in a relentless purge brought about The dawn of a new clergy Out on the avenues, entering the homes The new word is branded away Embers on the skin of diverse intents Or pen ink on a blank slate Shock troops in the danger zone Reveres utopies in rich ideas Warring drive of a noble patrician Blank epaulettes of the plebeian masses The new canon becomes total The waning antagonists hide themselves Panic tremors, unequalled fear Deathly caution to slips of the tongue Impure vices of the creator chaos Emerge and overshadow the victory of faith They will be purged in a painless coup With no impious one left standing Erased from history, obliterated Filthy and obnoxious pages rippen apart The cancer of past eras is taken away With long knives and deep wounds

Submitted by Warbringer — Apr 25, 2025

(Ilse Koch was the wife of Karl Otto Koch, who commanded the Buchenwald concentration camp between 1937 and 1941. During her husband’s tenure at the camp, she gained infamy for the cruel treatment dispensed to the inmates, even by nazi standards. Ilse flayed tattooed individuals and made trophies with their skin. She committed suicide in prison in 1967.) Cadenciado trote de um predador um denso olhar, absorto em lascívia desvelado sadismo em aroma de flor ceifador estoico da alma à deriva Fronteira final de arame farpado torres, fuzis, chicotes e fornos profano curtume de pele em adornos carcassas magras deixadas de lado A cadela preda, lançada a sorte! A cadela treda, emissária da Morte! Lâmpadas, luvas e capas de livros tingidas da dor, do ódio e do medo desses figurantes de fúnebre enredo apinhados em celas e esfolados vivos Olhares abaixo, evitando o contato a amazona irascível circula altiva luxúria infernal a procura de tato da ponta do açoite com a carne viva Espólios provindos da vil libação enfeitam e encantam a densa floresta um ranço terrível de putrefação e o eco eterno do Mal que a infesta... [English translation:] The careful trot of a predator A dense gaze, absorbed in lasciviousness Unveiled sadism in the scent of a flower Stoic collector of the wandering soul Final frontier of barbed wire Towers, assault rifles, whips and ovens Unholy tannery of skin trinkets Skinny cadavers thrown aside The bitch is hunting, the die is cast! The treacherous bitch, Death's emissary! Lamps, gloves and book covers Tinctured with pain, hatred and fear From small parts of this dreadful tale That are tossed in jails and flayed alive Gazes on the floor, avoiding contact The raging amazon patrols valiantly Hellish lust in search for contact Of the tip of the whip with living flesh Spoils created from the vile feast Adorn and enchant the dense woods A terrible reek of putrefaction And the eternal echo of the Evil that dwells

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Apr 25, 2025

(After the defeat of Poland in 1939, most of the polish officers were made P.O.W. under custody of the NKVD. They were all methodically shot in the back of the head in 1940 with their corpses concealed in mass graves in what became known as the “Katyn Massacre”. Soviet authorities denied involvement and claimed that Nazi Germany carried out the killings in 1941, after Operation Barbarossa. The demise of the Soviet Union in 1989 brought to light proof of soviet authorship.) Quietude crepuscular perece Ante o murmúrio infernal de pás Tal qual lamúria final da paz É refratário a toda prece Autofagia eslávica arranjada Diplomacia perversa em curso Sob o olhar do férrico urso, Sob artilharia pesada Acordo funesto, moribundo Semeia a terra pátria Escavadeiras, valas e defuntos Inovando em covardes táticas Semblante frio, pequenino Ondas de pânico emergem Forjados laços divinos Todos os mortais arrefecem Caçambas lotadas Almas condenadas Espíritos quebrados Destinos selados Abafado, rítmico estouro Conteúdo cranial espalhado Corpo espasmando, sangue coagulado Entremeado a cabelos louros Cômodo a cômodo a argúcia Desvenda esse tétrico som Do carrasco em pleno frisson Que aduba o chão da Mãe Rússia Paredes reforçadas Braços fadigados Projéteis deflagrados Occipícios perfurados Enfeites inermes, criados da guerra Adornam toda a necrópole, violados, nus Um dia árduo de trabalho que se encerra Logo ao primeiro, libertador, feixe de luz [English translation:] The twilight's quietude perishes Before the hellish murmur of shovels That, like the final lament of Peace Is impervious to all prayer An arranged slavic autophagy Wicked diplomacy on course Under the gaze of the iron bear Under heavy artillery The funest, dying pact Sows the motherland Excavators, ditches and dead bodies Innovative tactics of Cowardice Cold countenance, small silhouette Waves of panic emerge A forgery of divine bonds All mortals give up Cramned trucks Doomed souls Broken spirits Sealed fates Smothered, rhytmic blasts Scattered cranial contents Spasming body, clotting blood pools Intertwining with blonde hair Room by room their wits Elucidate this eerie sound Of the blood-lusted executioner Fertilizing the soil of Mother Russia Reinforced walls Fatigued arms Projectiles fired Occiputs pierced Inerm embellishments created from the war Adorn the necropolis, violated and bare A strenuous day of work that ends At the first liberating beam of sunlight

Submitted by MetalElf — Apr 25, 2025

(March 16, 1968 - Vietnam War: What was to be an U.S. search-and-destroy mission aimed at a Viet Cong batallion ended up in a bloodshed of civilians, mostly women, children and elderly, who offered no resistance. That was the “My Lai Massacre”.) Ecos distantes de um choque de ideias Engajamento indireto por procuração Civis em lavouras, nos campos de grão São trutas inermes num mar de lampreias Batalha assimétrica em selvas e ruas A águia os preda,planando nos céus Regurgita chamas, fatídicos véus Que queimam mulheres e crianças nuas E a selva castiga com duras lições Os jovens recrutas alheios a tudo Abandonarão seus lençóis de veludo Para perecer sob o ar das monções O Sol se aponta, uma nova incumbência Hienas do tédio sedentas por sangue Perfilam-se e seguem, como uma gangue E rumam à morte de toda inocência E patos e bois e anciãos e infantes E pais e esposas e tudo o que vive São alvos de armas de grosso calibre E nada mais seguirá como antes E os corpos enfeiam a bela paisagem A tímida aldeia se cala para sempre A águia dá a luz ao Mal em seu ventre E voa para casa em tranquila viagem [English translation:] Distant echoes of a clash of ideas Indirect engagement, by proxy Civilian on the crops, on the fiels of grain Are defenseless trouts in a sea of lampreys Asimetric battles in jungles and streets The eagle hunts, hovering in the skies Regurgitates flames, fateful veils That scorch bare women and children And the jungle teaches harsh lessons The young recruits, oblivious to all Will abandon their velvet sheets In order to perish under the monsoons The Sun rises, another mission Hyenas of boredom with thirst for blood Align and move in band Heading towards the death of all innocence And ducks, and cattle, and elders and infants And parents and wives and all that breathes Are targets of high-barreled weapons And nothing will ever be the same again The corpses turn the beautiful landscape hideous The already quiet village is muted forever The eagle gives birth to the Evil in its womb And flies back home, in a safe journey

Submitted by Corpse Grinder — Apr 25, 2025

(Between 1975 and 1979, Cambodia was ruled by Pol-Pot’s Khmer Rouge. Under its policies, extrajudicial imprisonment and executions were widespread. One symbol of this period is Tuol Sleng, or S-21. This former school was converted to a detention and torture center. Perceived enemies of the regime were kept there and tortured until giving names of “co-conspirators”, which were then also arrested and tortured, and then killed. One quarter of the whole nation’s population (about 2 million people) perished in the Cambodian Genocide) Clarão fustigante na mata cerrada Rebentos zelosos de uma nova ordem A essência do homem é remodelada Ordália brutal, malogros que eclodem E busque-se e mate-se o nefelibata Pois a redenção se dará pela terra Queime-se o sábio, enterre-se a prata Purifique-se o ar por meio da guerra Um êxodo urbano rumado ao abismo Pilhas de corpos por todos os lados E todas as formas de iluminismo São pontos de mácula a ser expurgados Selva adentro, tortura-se a todos Sala de aula tornada em masmorra Brasas, grilhões, pás e eletrodos Entregue seus pares, definhe e morra Fluxo imenso, maná para as feras Retratos de internos desesperados Gritos de dor que ecoam por eras Pelos corredores mal-assombrados [English translation:] Blinding flashlights in the dense jungle Zealous offsprings of a new order The essence of men is reshaped Brutal ordeal, evils that blossom Let the cloud-dwellers be found and killed For redemption is achieved through the soil Burn the wise man, bury the silver Purify the air through war An urban exodus headed towards the abyss Piles of corpses everywhere And all forms of enlightment Are dirty spots demanding purge In the heart of the jungle, all are tortured Classrooms transformed into dungeons Embers, shackles, paddles and electrodes Turn your pairs in, wither and die Immense flux of fodder to the beasts Portraits of despaired inmates Screams of pain that echo through the aeons By the haunted corridors

Submitted by NecroLord — Apr 25, 2025

(Originally by Infernal) Free inside Of a darkened room Double side... Free inside Of an unforgettable mind A burning star King of death The burning star King of death Give it to us Kissing our heads Who has been living here Who has afraid of living... They've learned how to breath despair They will die to live there Poor, epidemic civilization The end is near Continuous cycle of destruction Becomes a thief Of our own mass Words in pieces They'll be consumed A collection of corpses Pick up one of them

Submitted by Corpse Defiler — Nov 14, 2025

This track is instrumental.

Is this song not instrumental?