1. |
指詰め
01:19
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A shawl of wounded past, as antecedent to remission,
anoints the fissures in skin with shame.
His wounds have painted the tongue that recounts,
false and misshapen in what it has offered.
Scars trace the lines of fragments
and shards embedded in the broken surface
of wrists drained of warmth.
They grin like hissing jaws of grievance for what has healed
and bloomed in the baptism of flesh renewed.
There they sing. Bitter is their song.
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2. |
Spoke the Cancerous Void
03:18
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The enraging arrogance, the vexing display of prideful inaction,
the displeasing sounds of voices
as they prate and enrapture the callous ear...
As do circles of salt and hexes phrased call to something in wait,
so have these faults given invite to rift and cinder,
to the response from which the hoarse voice does not foresee.
And I welcome it with fervent, devoted embrace,
the pulsing swell of ceaseless dim.
It has heard the meaningless chatter, the choir of aimless voice
and the agony of the pitch has echoed back.
"As I have suffered, so must others."
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Sunlight's Bane Michigan
Midwestern grinding death painting an atmosphere of horror and visciousness across the necks of listeners.
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