Drowning The Light
A Pact with Madness
1. I
In this region the winds whisper a rumour of a being
A hermit banal, with a mind frail as his frame.
When he speaks it is in violent bursts
And insects recoil from his voice.
He speaks to the trees
for they are the only truly living creatures on this earth.
They share his misanthropic view and converse on wild topics
They are both arrogant, the tree digs it's roots deeper as the soil rejects it's clasp
And the hermit deeper animates the notions of the world, as the world casts him into the abyss.
"I respect you because whether in drought or flood
You always seem to grow, and expand the length of your skeletal branches
They claw at the sky and reach out to strangle
The exiting order, the prevailing lie.
I draw influence from your stubborn attempt
To steal the watery lifeforce of fellow nature for your own purpose"
2. II
He drowns in the serenity of plain
Waves of thought crash on barren skull walls
Thunder is the catalyst for meditation, rain the bringer of peace.
He plagued by very coffin which is ecstasy.
Concocting poisons to throw in the river
To poison the inhabitants of the outskirts of his swampy empire
He bestows upon them the freedon to starve
While they build their coffins out of marble, clay and pine.
And rejoice in their madness.
Anything which is not in the immediate circle of power of mystic experience
Is not worth any mercy nor even contemplation... Only peril
3. III
Slowly, through hologram portals
Chery surface cold, unmoving
Following the deluded trail of slime
Through every equinox and winding path
Following innumerable noughts
Casting their gaze towards the ground
Leper colonies breading like flies
Kingdom of the blind
What king would rule all this?
The smell of ritual fire and dry earth greets the hermit.
In silence is the loudest voice found.
The inner temper, the inner adversary
The inner peak, waiting to Boer reached
Again and again...
4. IV
After meeting the spark of all that breathes and bleeds
How could I leave with my pride and sanity intact?
By understanding of the world in ruins
By image blurred
By I in doubt
By soul at one with nothing.
I lurk amongst the waters
I can see but cannot hear
And inside I cannot hear
In this secluded environment
I can sit and manifest the mystical practices of old
A bark pillar grows within me, Stone overturns stone
Until my soul is nought but rock, hard as my conviction
All life is merely passing phase, a breeding ground
For vermin, filthy as they are naive
So as I hold in my hand this burning bush of sacred herbs,
So in my pillar of heart I hold contempt for all life in this realm
And it is contempt that fuels My thirst for pure knowledge...
5. V
To brown all and any sparks of light
Seems to be the only semi-comprehensive goal
Present int he hermit's slippery brain.
(His thoughts writhe almost as if
They were the embodiment of coiled serpent
Slowly eating and digesting itself, unawares...)
To Drown the self in the murky depths of the self
Layer by worthless layer the soul is peeled of its breath.
By virtue of non-action the modern sadists get their fir
Kobed in wounds teething with pus
Gathering dust
Screaming in torturous tongues
Spinning webs of lies.
Every miserable corner of the earth is the same.
6. VI
"And it will whisper to me secrets of the world...
...There will come a time
When a golden worm will gnaw it's way into the center of my skull.
It will whisper to me secrets of the world
And unfold truths to which I have been blind.
At this point I will utter final curses
And promptly hang myself
So that I may achieve an immense amount of spite
By holding back all the knowledge gained
At the conclusion of my life."
7. VII
[Instrumental]
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