1. |
Zenith
05:59
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A vast soul wanders
the stars
searching for light,
purity...
Swelling from despondency
the eternal dawn of chaos
is rising from the ether;
The zenith of my heart.
O, vast soul!
illuminate the crypts
in the far corners of the cosmos.
Bring life to this barren space.
Weave your vast nebulae
as you ebb through the river
where stars form...
Braid your vistas of colour.
Light forms in your wake.
Dance in the darkness, oh vast soul!
Constellate the sky
with life.
Breathe life into this battered world,
O vast soul…
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2. |
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Thou sleep in a tomb of ruin
thy bones exposed to the sun
beneath pillars of ash
dancing in the shadows,
erupting empyreal light.
They knew not the extent of thy power,
of the magic dormant within
thy corroded, pestilent heart.
Thou cursed the Earth that killed thee
with thy dying breath…
There was a forest of light
whose leaves glistened with gold
there once was hope
emanating from a pure soul
doomed to be corrupted,
as all pure things are…
Drown us all in hatred...
Their druidic chants could not retrieve
the stars you tore from the heavens…
Cloaked in the shadow of the glade
myriad roots converge to form bark
from beneath the soil…
Shelter…
erupting from a seed.
Shelter…
sacred and inviolate.
O dryad,
show them no mercy.
They defiled you, raped you,
claimed your children as theirs.
They killed your kin,
built towers from their bones!
A sacred tree
once buried
burst forth and spread
boughs across the skyline.
Before time,
before light
the sacred tree
now falling.
O sprites,
they call themselves oracles;
bearers of a bright future
at the cost of our world.
In their clairvoyance they succumbed
to the condescension in their hearts.
They speak only the language of deceit
to keep their black future!
They slit the throat of druids.
They cut the arteries of gods.
O Sol, Sylvan, Dryad…
Stay not your rage.
Stay not your hand.
Countless voices
petrified in wood.
ageless rage
from gentle souls.
The slumbering god
twisting in despair,
throwing cinders,
weeping molten light.
May they not predict your wrath!
The land you claimed;
Sacred water,
ageless boughs,
the vast sky,
now collapse upon you.
The anger in these roots
shall bind the hands of man
and the world will reclaim its silence...
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3. |
Runes Beneath the Bark
12:36
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In silence, always watching
the tragedy of sentience
in impotence...
In our omnipotence,
are we so powerless
to quell the rage of man?
They slaughtered us...
And still...
We pity our conquerors.
We could not save them
From their own will…
The poison of avarice
swims in their veins.
They yearn for destruction...
O pitiful man
Flayed wide upon the altar of time.
Thy valor seen truthfully
for the first time.
You think in death I am vulnerable?
I am the dagger that slits the cosmos' throat...
I am the river through which all wade...
I am time, I am light...
O pitiful man,
You can never corrupt me!
Cosmic winds strip the soul;
Celestial waters ferrying stars!
The ground you covet
as slave to your lust
will never bend.
It will add you to the stars.
I see your name
carved beneath the bark
in old tongues
that dryads speak...
The oak trees bay,
the druids cry out
as the derelict will of man
skins the trees
in pursuit of secrets
in unknown tongues,
which, in a heartbeat,
they would destroy.
I look upon the gaunt face of man
washed pale in the shade of doom.
Through one thousand eyes
clouded with tears.
Woe unto the fate of man
sundered by the winds of time.
For each tree they cut
so to did they fall,
one by one,
leaving only their rune beneath the bark.
O blighted child...
Like a pariah,
your cries resound in vain.
From hill top to glade,
from star to star,
you are alone,
lost and damned!
May you find solace
in the abject stillness of death
as your throat fills with roots
and your veins coarse soil.
May your cries resound
between the trees
and fade into nothing,
peaceful and still.
And still...
we weep as you perish
as a mother mourns her child,
as the life drains from its face.
We weep...
Sleep beneath this wood
of growing tombstones
with runes beneath their bark.
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4. |
The Great Sentinel
06:29
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Grove burner.
He who rapes the world.
World splitter,
who claims mastery over nature
in such vain condescension.
Bleed in the mire of your own hubris.
Those who you control want blood.
Even the earth itself
conspires to overthrow you
May you freeze beneath the sun you eclipsed.
May you choke on the soil you unearthed.
May the contextless violence of the cosmos
decimate your delusions of power…
He who rapes the world!
Enslaver of the weak.
Defiler of the strong.
He who bleeds forever,
You will be buried beneath the bones
you have torn from the flesh.
May no voice speak your name!
May you rot beneath the ruins of your empires.
They won't protect you,
he who bleeds forever.
You face a beast...
with many heads...
and one voice...
In the name of the great spectre...
With the breath of every world...
In the tongues of a thousand languages
vanished by your hand,
I cast you down!
From the mouths of millions does my anger come.
I speak with the voice of a thousand forgotten aeons.
With the ageless rage of the silenced,
I cast you down!
I am the face in the fire that haunts you.
I am the serpent crawling down your throat.
I am the voice of the burned. Beware!
When fire spreads…
Ashes rise…
I cast you down!
With the ageless rage of the silenced,
I cast you down!
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5. |
Stream of Aeons
13:22
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Frozen in worship
before the grand litany,
I trace the circle
of the hydra-headed wanderer.
Through unseen tides,
twixt nether space
below a sea of stars,
sovereign to declivity,
The demiurge path;
where deities seldom tread.
A shadow made from light.
The astral womb,
prelude to the ether,
forever birthing
space and time.
Hollow and deep, the declivity
bespeckled by narrow shafts of light
seeking weary eyes to glimpse its secrets:
the path to the world below.
Prostrate, enslaved,
the enigma of being
chained to a metaphiysic construct
deciphering slowly the tongue of time,
eroding my shackles.
I have witnessed the rise of a billion foreign suns
Breaching horizons of untold chaos
Heedless of sentient life,
The first light
flows endless through the lacunae!
Mercilessly I was changed
perceiving the memories of the universe
granted through astrologic epiphany
in phantasmagoric horror.
Volute and volatile, in every cosmic age,
the diviner of natural law.
A heart with no form
a pulse with no source;
Barren, but fertile;
Pregnant, but sterile.
I have been shown every conceivable end.
I've followed the journey of every ray of light.
The end of every story,
the birth of every soul...
The stream flows through me...
The birth and death of worlds
scrawled upon the canvas of the cosmos,
written in the pathways of stars
as they ebb through the river
beneath the universe.
Leading to ecstatic horizons.
The birth of a trillion worlds.
The river of the firmament
twists and bends through
the heart of every planet.
Witness the eternal dawn of chaos
swell from nothingness;
A despondent dance of matter
scoring the future with striations
in a heliospheric tongue.
As if gazing at a cosmic mirror,
shards embedded in the night,
ensnare me with kelidoscopic visions
Bore into me, the infinitude of being.
The astral well of souls is overflowing
Every tale of birth and death ascribed
Upon the darkened tapestry of time
A stream of aeons forging through the dark.
You speak the wisdom of the celestial sphere
of a universe scattered with life,
and immeasurable oceans of stars.
Black voids of endless violence,
constellations of writing mass
Endless realities
in cataclysmic chaos...
And the thread...
the thread that binds them all.
Abstract wisdom
gleaned from the solar forge.
A grand knowledge of the ages
spelled in the language
of constellations.
A language of light
a dialect of time.
The light is hidden
in the void,
drowned in darkness,
obscured...
I see the weary light of ancient stars;
Stellar music of the solar wind.
Constellations of dead stars
and worlds yet to form.
If every strand of light is aged
then everything I've ever seen is ancient
from the faintest spark
to the vastest supernova.
I have left behind my terrestrial sphere.
I have cast aside my naked form
to spread vast and wide
to feel as time itself
feels.
Populated blackness
scored with chaos
photons on their solemn journeys
drowned in darkness,
obscured...
Drowned in darkness,
a stream of aeons...
Drowned in darkness,
obscured...
The light is hidden
within the void...
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6. |
Ether
06:02
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When the firmament succumbs to its wounds
and the atrophied sun reclaims its path…
When night looms over a battered cosmos,
and the empyrean howls with death…
When the ruins of sentient life
have been eroded away by time…
When the age of writhing flesh
has decayed into the dark…
When the cinders of humanity
Have been reduced to smoke
like ash in space...
A new star will form,
where time is still…
When the last voice has spoken,
as the final knell chimes...
and the winds of time
weather the faces of the aeons-dead...
When the glint of starlight
is but a distant dream...
When the world reclaims its silence…
I will tread the ether.
I will swim the sea of runes
as blood in the beating heart of space
I pray for the ether
to weave its vast nebula
and once again yield
to the whims of living things.
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Vast Souls Vancouver, British Columbia
Cosmic black metal of death and rebirth from the consumptive wasteland of Vancouver, BC.
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