1. RECURRING END

Onwards and onwards in a cycle we move,
Perched on an edge between the old and the new.
I am the serpent, I am the libra,
My scales are glistening, my halo bright.
I am the herald, I am the scripture,
I’ll arrive tomorrow, I’ve always been.

Read the writing on the wall,
Tomorrow’s news in freehand.
See the rise and fall
Of fashionable ideals.
Look at yourself:
You make the same mistakes again.
Look at all of them:
They make the same mistakes again.

Blood will fade,
Like stone will break,
Time won’t stand still,
Life will cease.

Things fall apart,
The centre cannot hold.
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed
And innocence is drowned.

Shirk away from the blood on the wall,
Tomorrow’s sacrifice for freedom.
Freedom to return to square one,
To make the sacrifice once more.
Decrepit pawns
Where once they shone,
But now the gyre is getting
Ever narrower.

The darkness drops again but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare
By a rocking cradle.

And now the lion awakens
To impose control on men.
It drags us towards our end
And when our world dies,
Another will be born.


2. MONOLITH

Another day like any other,
Except today your bright light’s
Gone dim and warms no more.
Eyes upturned towards the horizon,
They see a mushroom growing,
And the fires of hell are glowing.
Another day, it’s just gone further.
Expect no quarter now that
The avalanche is on.
Eyes burned, staring at nothing,
Still waiting for a darkness
To settle on the world.

Crawling like worms in terror,
Face down in dust, so cold,
The remnants of our kind
Quivering with fear.
See. For it is rising.
See. The earth is trembling.
And out of darkness creeping,
Blocking the sun from sight,
Looming above us, watching,
A statue all are bowing
To. It is now reigning.
See : the end of being ?

Another day the sun is rising
To cast its rays upon
A world that breathes no more.
Amidst all the devastation,
A monolith is standing,
Marking the end of time.
Another day, mankind asunder,
Last dregs of humanity still
Cling on to their pointless lives.
And while they’re dying in their holes,
A primate lays its hand on
The surface of the stone.

I see it now with my eyes closed,
Overdosing on tomorrow.
In my dream a spectre told me :
In this cold-hearted world the rest is silence.


3. DISMAL VOID

Pain. The kind that a tidal wave can't wash away
It drives away all attempts of inspiration,
Dulling down all hope and expectation.
Rain. When a storm of pain overcomes your being,
Every word is a beating, every thought rings
To you as reason for not existing.
Shame. The kind that feels it will never wear away
Instead you tear inside, making it hard to hide
From the merciless juror within.
Play. A stage is set for an empty play,
A magnificent facade in which you hide
To fool the eye of others.

It's a race against time,
A race for uncovering yourself.
It's when truth hurts the most and you remember the pain,
But the lies they burn an eternal stain.
Walls inside your walls,
Find yourself to be an impregnable fort.
It's when you begin to realise the things that you've done,
The things you've put aside, the things you've tried to hide.

This being - a weakling.
A hollow shell - a volume of empty.
All emotion - shot - you're not a human being.
A cycle - you're caught - in between.

Salvation. Plastic relief from a plastic world
Of values and thoughts, replicated emancipation,
A form of artificial reanimation.
Seeking. Like a rat in a cage you wonder around,
There is no way out and you have the clue,
But a voice inside denies you the truth.
Replace. Written words that get you through,
Be it ancient in age or strikingly new,
It becomes the essence of you.
Hope. Like ray of light that stills your heart,
It fills every crevice with blind faith,
You regain control and push on through.

This being - a weakling.
A hollow shell - a volume of empty.
All emotion - shot - you're not a human being.
A cycle - there's no escaping.


4. CRESTFALLEN

A negation of your rights.
A faith in nothing but the truth,
That resides in each soul.
I will survive.

Dating back a couple of thousand years,
This game of give and forget.
Baring down on me was anger and frustration -
This time you'll know I'm through.
I'll let all this wash away.
Weakness, be rid of me.

I'll never forgive you,
For what you put me through.
There you stand, wide-eyed and withered,
I find it hard to care.
Souls lost in eternal darkness,
They cross their hands to pray.
Others engage in suicidal madness;
I will never be them.

A cancellation of the Christ.
These hands they carry the strength and
Will to bury you with your two-faced ideals.
I ask you the question :
Will you find - it in you
(You) parasite.