1. REMEMBRANCE

Dimly stored knowledge,
seeping and seething through stones shore,

Where the impurity of rotting wisdom has not left anguished emptiness.

The lowly bleeding ebb,
That fragile joy of remembrance.

This wounded recollection,
That caging grievance.

Indignant repose, wounded reprise.

The veiling perspective,
Wistful, disembodied breath.
Conjuring this inherit madness,
writhing, seething, ruinous twilight of time.


2. THE SACRIFICE

O! sweet, and unhindered remembrance,
your deliverance is pitiful,
as I gaze upon these scattered shards,
I have witnessed the saviour within myself beat.

Broken manifestation of the mirrors eyer,
hollowed bright dream,
the malice of sacrament, discomposing,
leaving bleeding veins.
the horus of madness is revealed.

This empty heart,
built my alter,
bending and unyielding,
the abstract of pain,
I worshipped myself,
to fill the loneliness

For this is pain,
For this is loss,
For this is blessed remembrance.


3. UPON THE DARKEST ENTRY, WE DREAM

In these shallowed days, under ash
Where the heavenly hearts rest
Torn of fleshly veils
Transcending meaning, light only brought

By subdued conscious
As the nebulous of time,
Croaks.
We see what is true, but not what I desire
To be made whole,
Fleshly and heavenly.
We seek what is true,
Heart felt and dim.

Upon the darkest entry, I see those hallowed walls,
Within; I look upon the crux of a dream,
A dream clouded by anticipation of awakening.

For this a decrepit illusion,
The eye sees pillars built upon ruin,
The heart bleeds in ruination,

We see what is true,
For the heart bleeds my forgiveness.


4. I, THE BEHOLDER

The bloodied palms owe no vows,
There will be no cry, for the eternal well beneath me shall not
claim what it seeks to consume.

In this solemn visage,
this blinding light,
we are hewn to utter misery.

Lay bare, your everlasting servitude
Lay bare, the hedonistic mask
Lay bare, those stranger's eyes

Lay bare that what seeks to claim me, that lonely visage of inner struggle,
nurturing the twisted end, I hear whispers
exiled, torn, and bound
I beg thee why! Is this arrogance or blessed bliss?

Despondent, bitter, and woeful
thus bringing me to the outer cliffs,
let me gaze upon the sorrowful horizon

Let the lowly heart sing its prayer!


5. PERENNIAL SELF

(Instrumental)


6. FOR THE BLOOD MADE RUINS

Spread thin,
see that which was,
and see that which is.
Deny the fate we have been given,
for the now is trivial,
and we will surpass what ruin they bring.

There is a deception,
it lulls those to their knees,
bent and twisted.

A primordial lie,
disavowed only to judge the unborn frailty.

There is a crack in this dying wisdom,
the passing and rotting knowledge of time,
like the crumbling pillar,
presents nothing but ash.

Like feigned hubris,
I say to you now,
There is a falsity, fictitious in nature.

Let me lay out my arms to you,
Throw them down or bind me in blood to this landscape.

Bind me in blood!