Coronachs of the Ω

Of beauty, I could sing a thousand songs… of beauty, I could write a thousand books… And of the tears as time slowly erodes it, eats its face away This story goes just like the one about our grip on this short life The direction goes in one sense of utterly slow decay Ex nihilo nihil fit, so it was, it will be and will stay We are wind swept tiny wisps in the dark armadas of the gray Fading embers only that in the twilight of a dying day Fading embers... …Boreas What purity could there in emotion be that it only seeks to flame the ember and thus chars our little brittle rest What relief could lay in the closing of the day in that blackened body, with burnt eyes and heart where in silence all which once was, once again, does drift apart... Of beauty, I could sing a thousand songs…

Submitted by Finntroll — Apr 24, 2025

. Als ich eines Morgens Aus unruhigen Träumen 2. Erwachte, erwachte… 3. Fand ich mich in meinem Bett Zu einem ungeheueren 4. Ungeziefer verwandelt 5. Auf meinem panzerartig Harten Rücken lag ich 6. Wenn ich den Kopf ein wenig hob 7. Sah ich meinen gewölbten, Von bogenförmigen 8. Versteifungen geteilten bauch 9. Was ist mit mir geschehen? 10. Meine vielen, im Vergleich Zu meinem sonstigen Umfang 11. Kläglich dünnen Beine 12. Flimmerten mir hilflos Vor den Augen 13. Was ist mit mir geschehen? 14. Was ist mit mir geschehen? 15. Es war kein Traum. Mein Zimmer, Ein richtiges, nur etwas 16. zu kleines Menschenzimmer 17. lag ruhig zwischen den vier wolhbekannten Wänden 18. Was ist mit mir geschehen? 19. Was ist mit mir geschehen? [Kafka – Die Verwandlung]

Submitted by Pestilence — Apr 24, 2025

Laying waste to the city of Jerusalem Destroying all evil creed of this world No holy book, nation king, prophet or son No word of god, sacred law – all should be gone Laying waste to the city of Jerusalem Destroying all evil creed of this world No temple mount, church of the holy sepulchre, dome of the rock – everything should be gone Laying waste to the idea “Jerusalem” Adam, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob Moses, David, Solomon, Jonah Baptist John Jesus Christ and Muhammad – to be forgotten Laying waste to the idea “Jerusalem” Destroying all evil creed of this world Yodh He Waw He, Jehovah, Allah – dead Inside your mind should be life – live it - think God is dead. Laying waste to the city of Jerusalem Destroying all evil creed of this world No holy book, nation king, prophet or son No word of god, sacred law – all should be gone Laying waste to the idea “Jerusalem” Yodh He Waw He, Jehovah, Allah – dead God is dead.

Submitted by Dahmers Fridge — Apr 24, 2025

Ah… All those things of beauty “a joy forever” should they be But what we build to last is never destined to stand fast Look ‘round and you will see the ruined state of all that be All beauty blossoms to be broken and become nothing but a token What remains is a faint memory of past glory, fading by decree This is a solemn ode to ruinFor time will make so much forgottenFor fresh will become rotten A solemn ode to ruin!To doom!To us all! A solemn ode to ruin!To doom!To us all!And our lives, stillborn or misbegotten I must be near the middle of my story.O may no wintry season, bare and hoary,See it half finished: but let Autumn bold,With universal tinge of sober gold,Be all about me when I make an end! And now at once, adventuresome, I sendMy herald thought into a wilderness:There let its trumpet blow, and quickly dressMy uncertain path with green, that I may speedEasily onward, thorough flowers and weed.. Be all about me when I make an end! [John Keats – Endymion: Book I] Oh Mensch! Gieb Acht! Was spricht die tiefe Mitternacht? "Ich schlief, ich schlief—, Aus tiefem Traum bin ich erwacht:— Die Welt ist tief, Und tiefer als der Tag gedacht. Tief ist ihr Weh—, Lust - tiefer noch als Herzeleid: Weh spricht: Vergeh! Doch alle Lust will Ewigkeit will tiefe, tiefe Ewigkeit!" [Friedrich Nietzsche – Also sprach Zarathustra]

Submitted by Immortal — Apr 24, 2025

Van de doodse dageraad tot het sterven van het licht (Onder druk, gejaagd, versteven, zonder rust, belaagd, ontheven) Sleept het leven, breekt het leven, keert het leven om het even But look at the cities… Small and insignificant Look at the tiny minds of people, helpless, selfish, arrogant Are they worth it? All this suffering? All the pain and all your thoughts? In this speck of time and space, they get you burdened and unwrought. Wijlen wij… We are the choir of grey, of painless solitude Wijlen wij… We call you out to ascend, be spread like drifting clouds Wijlen wij… We call you out to descend, among worms there are no doubts There’s no more peace than high and low There is no peace in noisy crowds Redemption is at hand Just stop your time

Submitted by SerpentEve — Apr 24, 2025