1. |
Ophidian Henosis - I
06:55
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Overflowing with an absence of will
And thus, I am defined
It's no great marvel that lost men
Stood beneath skies torn by gaudy starlight
And shrank under the weight of the infinite
That they gave that nothingness a name
And fell to their knees before its might to worship it
The tyrannical, uncaring personification of the void.
Burdened by freedom
They constructed their own prison and damned their descendants to
eternal interment.
And I am like them
A coward before the vastness of nothingness
Crippled by the mocking sting of guilt
Dragged down by the burning expanse of emptiness that weights in us all
Consumed by it, I've watched meaning slowly tortured until it
becomes meaningless in itself
A twisted relic from an incomprehensible past.
The only true defeat is surrender
The only true death is submission
There are no martyrs here
Ours is the path of endless struggle
The only true defeat is surrender
The only true death if submission
There are no martyrs here
Ours is the path of bitter rage
The only true defeat is surrender
The only true death is submission
There are no martyrs here
Ours is the path of burning sorrow
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2. |
Ophidian Henosis - II
08:03
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Crawling through the clawing, sucking mire of defeat
Ever upward, ascending to unattainable heights
Towards the self
I see it at the apex - triumphant and calm
With every pace, I slip back two more
But still I climb with aching muscles.
Below, the gloom is warmed by the dazzling fires of apathy
And the masses pass me by, fleeing the self on shambling limbs
Descending towards the lights
Their faces merged into a rictus of vacant, asinine contentedness.
And I'm tempted to join them
I confess in moments of weakness and despair,
I've let myself slip back, towards the warmth
Some stop to converse, but their tongue is as alien to me as the
screeching of the crow
They are politely oblivious to the bloodied, soiled carcass
That I drag behind me with a taut golden line
Yet still they leave gladdened, ever towards the lights
And I continue upward
My dragging body becomes heavy as the detritus builds up
If only I had the will to sever that golden cable, to float at ease
toward the self
But I lack the courage
That is my burden.
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3. |
Ophidian Henosis - III
06:12
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I've seen beauty blossom, and permeate brightly through this sphere
Only to putrefy and cover the earth with its ashes
I've felt the hopeless despair of the finite
And the crushing weight of doubt
I turn inwards, with heavy lidded Ajna
A blurred and filthy lens
And with the purging of ego, I'm overcome with ecstasy
And enveloped in blinding light
Without decay, beauty becomes banality
There is only one eternal strand
Fluctuating
The surging mass of desultory life
Moved by spurious forces through channels of stone
Is more frightening to me than the embrace of death
But without that fear, there can be no strength
So I reject the hungry arms of death again
Only through suffering can we know true joy
Only through blindness can we behold true light.
I detach from the nimbus of occlusion
And tear through Maya with merciless attrition
The curse of the enlightened is that they're blind to their own elevation
Unable to perceive it through grimed lenses.
We will always be despised by the spiritually impoverished
Just as the immured detest the few beyond the bounds of their prison
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4. |
Ophidian Henosis - IV
05:54
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Shatter the illusions
That rot like a plague within
Project the shards outward
To tear through veils of delusion
Cornering weakness
Delve into its depths
Exacerbate the wound
Until strength blossoms from its corpse.
The spirit yearns to ascend
Straining against its bonds
Cables drawn taut
Still firmly rooted in the carcass of weakness
A phoenix in fetters but the yearning
The desire to ascend
Is the seed
That will grow to shatter these chains
The spark
Of the metamorphic conflagration
Onward now to blacker hells
To bleaker spheres of desolation
To conquer misery
Another vassal in service to this burgeoning strength
Absorbing every failure
With ungovernable strength
Nauseated by this cloud of feeble, mephitic will
I return to black faith.
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5. |
Ophidian Henosis - V
07:21
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Embracing chaos
Imbued with its fury
Transcending planes of stagnation
Mastering vicissitude
Transmitting it to strength
Throwing off the veil of weakness
To realise that what I've perceived
As the walls of my prison
Are the keys to liberation
Led astray by languor
I've neglected solitude, sorrow and rage
I've suppressed the eternal call of darkness
In favour of this anemic half-life
Everything I despise
But this frailty is only a mask
Concealing burning rage
I see it disintegrate in ashes with the rekindling of a supine spirit
I'll shed no tears for those
Who have volunteered for vassalage
For those who wallow in weakness
The embers of rage have kindled
I forge a glacial path
From life unto death.
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6. |
Ophidian Henosis - VI
07:04
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Emerging from unplumbed blackness
Cloaked in filth and horror
Emblazoned with untold miseries
Deny hope
Your shrines are hollow
Rejecting extraneous salvation
Seeking redemption within
Torturing failure until it becomes victory
Nurturing the unknown
Until it becomes wisdom
Rise from the corpse of solace
Profane metempsychosis
Wielding the anguish that burns inwardly
Strike out and transcend
My only sin has been submission
But true growth requires the blackest sin
Strike out and ascend
Becoming my weakness
Becoming my fear
Becoming the enemy
To realise true potential
And the extent of fortitude
Blind to the writhing mass
Grasping for hollow scraps
And siphoning pride from the deeds of another I master fate
A coronation of suffering
I sacrifice meekness
At the altar of true will
Adorned with the regalia of death
Bearing the putrid insignia of the horror of the void
I reign over this decrepit path
With ophidian obdurateness
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7. |
Ophidian Henosis - VII
04:26
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Battling the monad of despair
Atop the corpses of man's every hope
Beneath vacant banners
Shattered against the walls
Burning with every inevitable defeat
Armouring the spirit in the vestments of desolation
Reborn from the ashes of relentless vanquishment
The seed of incipient triumph
Germinating in the
vestiges of ultimate
defeat
The only true defeat is surrender
The only true death is submission
There are no martyrs here
Ours is the path
of glorious
triumph.
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