.LIFELESS.

Been fed by the masses since birth, raised to fall. Been led to believe this is life, this is love. Forced to swallow. Behind the blind.

Follow the tongue.

Soak in the waters.

Reap on the low.

Kneel at the alter.

Starting to sin like the masses.
Desperate to light candle fires.

Two decades falling behind, before succumbing to open eyes, to see the world as it really is. The blind leading the blind, by a wonder word of disgust, waiting for a sign to break free. With open eyes one can finally see what's been hidden behind. No longer shielded by lies of the masses, cruel and unkind to people that no longer follow and opened their minds, to beyond their beliefs, beyond their own kind, become their own leader, follow their mind. Fed since birth. Raised to fall. Forced to kneel. Lifeless.

.THE AGE OF ARROGANCE.

Death knows your name. In darkness, patently watching, stalking your every step. Smiling, quite beautifully, reaching to grasp your breath. Enchanting, her voice lovely whispers, “with one breath, choose your death.” Calmly, with eyes shut, watched all that I loved. Peaceful, with breath held, let go all I hate. Life ended quite lovely while Death held my hand, and Death knew my name.

Then, mountains surrounded by dark woods, time came to awake. Three beasts float in darkness, and rotting like cancer awaits.

Forced to lie in vile slush of ceaseless, boiling blood. In flaming sand, and fiery flakes raining from the sky. A three face beast awaits athirst. Abandon hope, ye who enter here. Feet first into a mouth of the eager beast, condemned in the very center of Hell.

“Lasciate ogni speranza, voi ch'intrate”  

.MISANTHROPY AND LOVE.

Death. Seems no longer seen sacred to love. Blind. Led by virtue that's now far away and gone. Forgotten beauty left in this world to an end. Human, all too human, wasted prayer to mend. What future has a life consumed with breaths absorbed by Man? A front end pass to being left behind and feeling dead inside. A dead town ride. Die lovely. Instead Man hangs a cross around his neck and takes a loss. Die lonely. Follow the masses into an empty shell consumed of lies. Gaze long into an abyss it stares right back.

Man is just a portal to a distant world filled of languages only spoken by gods, that endlessly love, hate, and laugh. Human, all too human. So lovely.

.UNDER THE BLACK SUN.

To be in the heart of a world that sleeps. Plagued sleep, consumed of empty dreams. Thus a darkness come to life. Hungry. Violent. Lonely. Godless. Thus the lion-will wants itself. Ten thousand years to a start of an endless, broken, and mad generation. Chaos, panic, unpleasant misfortune. Cursed to a sleep, sleep to an end. Thus the master indulges his slaves. Thus the will of the mind come to end.

The thought of a mindless salvation. The constant pursuit of a false conception. Endlessly searching for twilight of idols. Pervading existence replete with revival. Consuming life, a darkness surrounds. Thoughtless, frightened, endless, tainted. Thus the master indulges his slaves. Thus the will of the mind come to end. Thus the shape to come fall under the black sun.

.YEAR 1348.

Cold filled lungs, death rips this chest. Black like cancer, turns skin to stone. A dark gloom filled sky. Far is the reach of the sun. Warmth of a light. Signs of a hope. A dark gloom filled mind. Damned alone, this plague is cursed. A demon waits, beyond this tomb. A dark gloom filled sky. Thirty seven years left alone to rot. Among this fourteenth century plague.

.OLAUS MAGNUS.

The forms of a horrible creature.
Below the thunders, below the abysmal sea.
Far beneath the light, controlling the feasts.
A monster at large, a shadow of beasts.
There hath he lain to keep.
There hath he lain for ages, in un-invaded sleep.
Far into the sickly deep.
Once by man and angels to be seen.
Ten thousand leagues, nine hundred years of fear.
In depth, the creature sleeps.
In depth, faintest sunlights flee.
In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die.

.DOOMRIDER.

Twenty five years from now, only the elite will rise, and be left to stand. Through passing time and ungrateful tales, each restful thought is left behind forgotten. Deprived, the sleeping eye still stares right through these last eight heartless years of ignorance. In filth, it's plagued beyond escaping paths. Damned alone to face the beast who rides upon the palest of four horses. And in the wake of Pestilence, Famine, and War, comes Death.

When eye to eye six feet below the sickly pale green creature, death is effortless.

The darkest clouds will form around what's left of this god forsaken town. This city is cursed of sadistic tales and passing panic. This city is cursed. The darkest clouds will form around what's left of this god forsaken town. Perhaps it's best existence continues this way. Perhaps there are no beating hearts left.