1. |
Lucifer's Cage
01:39
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I always knew no matter what I did there would be consequences. Despite it all, this place almost feels like home. There’s no denying I belong here; I won’t argue the fact. Who would I argue with? Where would I begin? All my eyes can see is the red—shades of scarlet and vermillion muddied by hordes of fellow miscreants trapped in their cells with the agonies they perpetrated against others.
The pain burns. It dries my flesh, yet is making me sweat. Every drop of perspiration wrung from my soul screams with unknown suffering. My mind roars. Why am I here?! All I crave are answers. If this is my path, all I want is to wallow in the grief I’ve caused… not suffer endlessly—agelessly—through eons without understanding, without feeling the impact of my past life’s endeavors.
All I can do is hope. Hope that my personal cage here in this place becomes more than just an echo chamber of faceless sorrow. I deserve more…
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2. |
For The Rats To Devour
06:39
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Dim light flickers casting dancing shadows. The hordes within their cells wail and writhe. I am the remnants of a memory, hidden beyond dream’s door. Shackled to remorse felt but not know. Beset on all sides by the laments of abominations, praying for succor in abject misery. There is no salvation here, only pain, the undeniable and inescapable truth that binds us. I belong here. Held by what I know in my heart. Tear this from myself. Leave it for the rats to devour. As I sit with heart in hand, regrets and sin, hope and dreams turn to excrement on the floor. I am free, and my humanity lies choking the flies on the cold concrete. I am become death, the destroyer of worlds
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3. |
The Pain Of Necessity
02:14
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Tears scorch my face, burning cascading lines into my drawn flesh. I don’t weep from the pain, but from the necessity. Answers had eluded me for too long, adding undue and unfair misery to my sentence. Who would fault me for taking matters into my own hands?
With my heart in my hand, I watch in awe. Empathy and humanity pump from it. Arcing streams shower me in the essence of foreign memories foreign. But now I don’t care. I no longer grieve for what it is I can’t recall. A blessing in this place is still a sin unchanged by circumstance.
The beating of my heart slows; the crimson remnants of understanding and compassion—lost or forgotten—spiral into nothingness at my feet. The walls of my hellish cell are closing in on me… Or am I outgrowing my confines?
I’m transcending. Flesh molds and reforms, stretching and popping. My heart! It refills with life. It absorbs all the hate and blackness and vitriol of this place, churning it into sludge that thickens and expands. I’m engorged on the sensation. Pain and release. Real pain. It’s all I know. All I desire. And I want to share this euphoria with the world.
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4. |
Molding The End
03:16
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Crawling, crawling, chaos, becoming. Death wakes. The end takes shape. The fleeting dream of suffering wanes. Mother weeps. In fire forever sleep. Mindless, begotten from sorrow forgotten.
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5. |
Fury
00:45
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My mind is thunder. My hunger is absolute.
Fire burns deep within my core. It has awoken and I want to burn the world.
My suffering is their suffering… by design.
All I feel is the fury. All I want is their death.
To hear billions of souls screaming out a once, then bathe in the silence that follows.
This is my legacy. My hands are desolation.
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6. |
Laying Mountains Low
04:28
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My legacy revealed, laying mountains low. The apocalypse inside has awoken. With head reared, and fire burning in my veins; it casts its judgment. My breathe is plague, my shadow is death. My hands are desolation. I am the sin of man, turned back on its self, demanding its pound of flesh. Their bodies fall lifeless at my feet; wading through a sea of corpses. Submerged in the deluge, the rising tide of devastation. Behold my flood. My breathe is plague, my shadow is death. My hands are desolation.
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7. |
The Sorrow Of My Deeds
02:09
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The sound registers deep down in the primal parts of my brain. It reaches a crescendo as I approach the floating mass of adipocere that was once humanity.
Repetitive. Insistent.
Like a beacon within the wreckage of man.
I move closer, towering over the earth, my shadow as wide and engulfing as the sea beneath me. Why is this sound beckoning me? Why does it fill me with such a strange sensation? A reminiscence of sorts that my enraged mind could only recall on the most subconscious of levels.
An emptiness. A yearning.
It’s getting stronger; churning the ocean.
Floating just below the surface I see a solitary heart, withered and black yet beating, encased in sorrow. I part the bloody sea as faceless memories start flooding my mind in vivid flashes and vicious swirls.
Are these my memories?
Taunting me? Consoling me?
The cavity in my chest burns as if longing to be filled, to be whole. The racing memories slow to a crawl. I see myself in them. And I weep.
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8. |
Pillars Of Guilt
03:43
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Drag me down beneath the pile of dead. Lying, crushed under the weight of a billion bodies, a heart beats so slow and so weak, so slow and so weak. It is mine, and in the blink of an eye I remember.
Pillars of guilt collapse upon me, driving me down, welcoming me to oblivion.
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9. |
Precipice
01:27
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What have I done? What had I become?
I look upon the ravaged world and my heart is heavy. My soul is corroded by my deeds. I remember everything and now there is no one left to judge me or punish me. My regret runs deep and my sorrow at what I’ve done moves mountains. I must repent…
Standing here on the precipice of the void, I can see I was forever defeated, blinded by pride and wrath… scapegoats dressed in wolves clothing. It’s too late, always has been, always will be. I give you this, the last of me.
Until we meet again, in Armageddon’s sweet embrace, an end never ending.
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10. |
Unending Cycle Of Defeat
06:56
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Hands break, mortar and stone give way. A mounting frustration wanes as the light of day reaches my face. Its blinding brilliance brings a burgeoning hope that soon fades.
I see the world has fallen. As my eyes adjust, Desolation chokes me, thick and dry. I see the world has fallen. As my eyes adjust, bright skies turn to gray.
We have bitten the hands that feed us death, and found them bitter sweet, but still we swallow, because it is our time, and they are our deaths, bloating the pitiful wretches that walked this land, woe filled and ravaged. Life imitating an art, long since lost, a God creating destiny, walking solemnly through its weave like cattle to slaughter. History is truly written by the victors, and standing here on the precipice of the void I can see, I was forever defeated, blinded by scapegoats, dressed in wolves clothing. It’s too late, always has been, always will be. I give you this, the last of me, until we meet again, in Armageddon’s sweet embrace, an end never ending.
I always knew no matter what I did there would be consequences. Despite it all, this place almost feels like home…
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