Tomb Mold The Enduring Spirit 1. The Perfect Memory (Phantasm of Aura) We are given the heat and friction of light To moult in our delirious memories Now we dream only in familiar depths What in the bitter night speaks to us? Three sepulchral notes ring A phantasm of aura remains The torn flesh ribbons of the absolute Their presence like firelight at our backs Solo: Power Absolution - the fateful pillar of reprieve Threadbare faith in the cult of seven angels Life free from illusion in the gallery for the angelic conversation Bound to be lashed by the great white light The stench of enlightenment degenerates my cells Constellations prostrated to me until elevation Ever-eager and all-seeing Man may feel his breath one last time, quietly and offer no resistance Solo: Vella How pure, the shade of this premonition How hysterical our thermal maximum Tell me, what is eternity? 2. Angelic Fabrications Dream and immaterial align Other lives have lived here We are only tools of the spirit, With no memory of life without its essentia Is my sense distorted? Is power for its own sake what we desire? All that is is visible is plagued by death Turn your eyes away from yourself To disturb the peace of even the dead As if in a play of breath Spectralized androgyne Enthralled in the violent ether flow Challenge the curse of forever A single memory, grows to occupy your mind Place our eternity in the hands of chance The mind is incorruptible, protected by the prevailing ways I know your form, and I know your image Between them, nullity Finality broods upon the things that pass Why do we change? I wonder… 3. Will of Whispers Every word primes the nerves They dissolve our euphoric cluster We are at each other’s mercy, But what pushes you onward? Our roots coil and ripen, and the believing heart opens all doors Those fixed in their years, quietly wait for all to disappear Our tattered beauty held close to a corpse All that provokes awe is sublime Time without haste Patience without release You light your way to sorrow Underneath the greater beauty and aura, is this where truth begins Experience both its calm and storm Solo: Power Behind our ache where fire forms, along the line in which spirits travel I want to weep there, in that place Lead me now where you are Solo: Vella Then sleep with our sex at rest It traces me to here, to where I must purge myself at last Our divine truth is both cruel and fatal Solo: Vella All are allowed their secrets, all are allowed their spirits All are allowed their solace, all are allowed their sorrow But who will remove the blade from between my eyes? Solo: Power 4. Fate’s Tangled Thread The sickness of death is fatal, contagious Your body forfeited to sleep I do not remember the wreckage, I do not remember the waste There is no place where I am not Your voice alive in legend Winds gnash the remaining flesh on my bones Rotted, bristling, marked when I bled last Everlasting dream intravenous Auric bliss in referentia They of the grand are enraptured by fate’s tangled thread, And subsist in the current of causality The last gasp of living breath My last call lost to the ether Solo: Power Your voice alive in legend, and as sharp as your ribcage We each have names only we know Solo: Vella The apocryphal dream I visit every night The inalienable aura They lead me to the infinite process There is nothing left to hear Solo: Power Go through what has left and gone There where you lay, stripped as you are Forbidden to forget They of the grand are enraptured by fate’s tangled thread There where you lay, stripped as you are Solo: Vella They lead me to the infinite 5. Flesh as Armour Time cuts through the narrative of flesh Secrets save us from dissolving The wandering moon with her borrowed light Burdened by the unconquerable weight inherited Once I collapsed I now see clearly Voices cutting across my sleep They spill fourth our remaining doubts Fragments too small to retain my Self As I step in your shadow You sing forth a chant for wings And claim the divine mastery of flesh Solo: Power Watch the mystics, regard the martyrs We know the world as submissive and devouring The last becomes the first once again I am blind to all other light What is it that keeps us from drowning? How will I see my life until I have left it behind? Machines of motion are bred by bastards Let us be gentle when questioning ourselves Divide your flesh and mine Solo: Vella Our flesh as armour Now Find a way 6. Servants of Possibility Shame is the presence pressed against me My weeping with hers Pour yourself into this miracle Our mania forbidding all forms of release, a tantalizing balm shared Shame is the presence pressed against me, And pain is our most powerful magic It is the fearsome initiate who tests the merit of death, then praises the mystified spiritual totality A single vast gold air breathed out by beings Scatter misfortune To be cruel, you must be illuminated March onward to the disappearance of being and destruction of form I embrace you above all life The curse of forever with its beasts of possibility Preserved in their psycho-glory They are seers of the cycle of reincarnate necessity What is left to dream? That which is not, I will make myself We must bleed as payment for nature and reality misled Life now issued by nothingness instead Solo: Power Living while refusing life A rite instigated by the theatre of essence Solo: Vella An invitation to destroy ourselves All are allowed their secrets 7. The Enduring Spirit of Calamity You will walk endlessly to find me Behind the karmic foil of the enslaved star It is man that unveils the initiatory words The transmutation of opposites The slaying of all proponents of self Every lapse forgiven Or at least, not felt Boundless latitudes revealed to each of us Is this unity mythified in our exchange of abstractions? Are we prolonging nature’s final spell? Secrets save us from dissolving Yet we are still to die under the battering light I am replaced a thousand times over I mourn the change coming Where time takes hold of us Deep in the eternal world of the demiurge Where acquiescence and rebellion coalesce Cut open by faith, left weeping within me Your whispers become a thousand spells Nothing is free to those who shield their hearts Solo: Vella Solo: Power All is free to those who bear their hearts Solo: Power Solo: Vella But who is free from compulsion? Suffer this and you need suffer nothing more