1. |
The Fragile Art of Game
07:40
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Conquests of inner doubt and emptiness
In a world where all should be for the taking
Genitals, a mere score for self-assurance
Tallied like the rest, but her charm shifts the glacier of idle hearts
How the flesh croons a soft aria
Breaths keeping steady rhythm
Within the dance of late-night decadence
Stirred to prattle at dawn
Elated at the thought of the brisk morning sun
Gracing her curves
Rays frigid to that smile
Assured of its warm daybreak greeting
Blood-red capsules stimulate the drive
To own what is purposefully misunderstood
Contorted passion built from hollow whispers
Turned at the heel of the evening's mistress
What divine radiance!
Did all the others feel this numbing loneliness?
When their chance for fulfillment vanished in the night?
What the hell was it all for?
No room for loss of control!
Dry heaves among woeful tears
Vomit the crimson pill
How the flesh croons a soft aria
Breaths keeping steady rhythm
Within the dance of late-night indulgence
Stirred to serve her forever
Sorrowful to awake and find her gone from bed
Not to return
Cold in this bitter nest
Made from despair of heartbroken souls
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2. |
Embrace
09:44
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Honeyed words grace honed and tired ears
Affection void to all that recall
Wounds may fade, but the mind stays broken
Your facade fails beyond cognizance
Self-absorbed
Unable to behold enduring fulfillment
Misguided
What good is your embrace when you've relinquished flesh for demons' corrupt ease?
Many doors open with your privilege
But status reigns on high
Pain be damned!
Entitled
You cultivate abuse to fuel your naive dreams
Stay far away
What good is your embrace when you are never wrong?
Don't know what love is at all!
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3. |
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Sociopath
What keeps you here?
Why walk the path of fatherhood?
Why go and burn a crystal cross?
Fentanyl is the pass to heaven
Shameful display of masculinity
When beating children is all you know
Jesus is truly forever rotting
With wicked lambs gnawing at our heels
Kicks to the teeth are what you deserve
A smile the world doesn't need
No span of time in the concrete shitbox has ever made you self-reflect
Buried alive in the dirt with my own hands would be over joyous
But the earth deserves no such burden as to make home for your remains
Most vacant words in observance:
"I won't assault like he did me"
Yet here we are forever seethed within childish sadism
Epiphany had not shockingly
Your God revered was never real
But the closest that it ever made sense
Was your presence that always invoked the depiction of Hell
Your severed tongue, a treat for the dogs
A voice our world won't ever miss
To help the earth from being your tomb--pieces in jars you'd be
Fantasies and craving vengeance has kept me distracted for too long
Even if reoccurring nightmares go on...
...I am still here living!
Despite all obstacles
Forward hurdles and friends bestow strength to go on
Though you aren't worth effort beyond this melody
I'll sip scotch and revel once news breaks of your death
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4. |
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Erroneous recommends:
memory lapse
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Cathartic piercings for the soul.
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In Filth It Will Be Found
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Invocations of putridity and otherworldly decay.
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Journeys through necromantic dreamscapes.
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supported by 12 fans who also own “Submission”
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FOSSILIZATION - HE WHOSE NAME WAS LONG FORGOTTEN
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