1. GROZA I

Between the grey pillars of conscience the path to truth narrows.
The burden of Aksios leaking through open wounds.

Lo and behold: the finely crafted,
Precise mechanism of sheep and scapegoat.
Relative within the borders of universal logic.
Collective confidence in moral permanency.

The lowest common denominator is crowned.
Standpoints are chosen over general reason.
Stars allocated to every man and woman.
Fair measure of futile love and will.

Fortresses of blissful unconsciousness.
Anywhere between Aquinas and Descartes.

Blazing a trail as shown, as told, over the exact same traces.
Crawling in circles with face in dirt and spirit skyhigh.

The destroyer of hope. King of rust and wreck.
Contract and detract.
Harbinger of havoc. Wreaker of rule.
Truth becomes lie and lie becomes truth.

Here, in fact, we may be in the presence of one of the most necessary of all Devils: the Ecumenical Unifier, champion of all efforts to remove invidious distinctions between nature and nurture, body and spirit, interdiction and impulse, time and eternity, individual and community, male and female, Hell and Heaven-and ultimately, of course, between man and God.


2. GROZA II

Z ostrzem Solipsis w uniesionej dłoni
Z pieśną Hybris na zakrwawionych ustach
U perłowych bram - na spotkanie Rodzajowi!

Poza skrajem
Po przeciwnej stronie ja

W każdej kropli jadu, w każdej strudze śsliny jestem,
Ja, jestem

Nada, groza, nada
Groza, nada, groza
Hail nothing full of nothing
Nothing is with thee

Pożerając, depcząc splendor legionów
Po gruzach Znanego, po ścierwie Porządku
Po ścieżkach krętych i stopniach stromych
Niesony dziką, zimną żądzą Zwątipenia


3. GROZA III

Now I am become death.
Crawling, slithering along the edge.
Shattered splinters, frozen in an eruption of light.

Craving for stench of divine rot.
Scratching the bare core of hideous truth.
Wherewith shall it be received,
When the soule�s precious vessel lies ruined and lost?

Now I am become death.
Pierced by those signals of transcendence.
Right at the 5 minutes of salvation.

The bitter blood of the Lamb.
Shattered grace. Ashen virtue.
The horror. The horror.
A precious jewel of His making.

And as the light embraces the wanderer,
As knees bend as thought is obliterated,
With the very moment that resistance has ceased,
Now, I am become death, the enemy of man.


4. GROZA IV

The valley of judg'ment. The forest of olde.
Where'd come the dread presence, so knowne afore?

Thou, who hath risen the oracle of lyes,
Hast thou witnes'd a shepherd feed on his flocke?

The virtues of loss. The hymnes of decay.
Dost thou have faith now, o dearest friend?

And dost thou now doubt Truth to be a liar,
Or dost thou doubt Lie in thy promythian rage?

Whence came thine yoke of grande tradition,
Hast thou not seen the structure clear?

A quenchlesse fire, a nest of trembling feare.
A path that leads to perill, sorrow and despaire.

Alas, 'tis the world without end.