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lyrics

The illusory intimacy,
In absence, so deeply marked in redundancy
A pain of the psyche, so long enduring.

A Slate to clean.

An evermore anger enlivening
Poised for failure, for the future is looming.
Denoted by simple extrapolation of past and present coalescing.

Each pitiful gaze from beauty taken far fancifully,
where is the doubt in the innate need.
Quickly turning to ire, rushed the seethe,
emboldening the ideations of illumination.
Seeking release.
A catharsis,
returning to the wretched worthlessness of all hallowed's deemed.

In end's effort,
A direction to the meaningless.
An animosity, toward Christian myth,
that which was purported as wellness, an alleged turmoil's ceasing,
the ever-love waiting.
In certainty of no messiah, a sickness never lifting,
to dissension not family and love.
I wake to the perils of Satan's concerted rock, a revenant to fiction,
for its roots are laden with purpose.
To all that has been allowed, to what was written as permitted,
I allocate myself to righteousness's abolition.
To violence the innocence of your creation,
to cripple those deeply dejected by collapsing deception
Vying for retribution.
Senses utterly nulled,
Seeing then, how sincerely you have been undone.

So fucking then,
a slate to be cleaned.

credits

from The Crux of Apostasy, released March 14, 2019

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Deciphering the Luciferian Fort Frances, Ontario

Daniel Herbert - Everything

Deathcore out of Canada.

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