1. |
|
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|
it claims you - a disease for keeps
piece by piece, it mars your mirth
it slaughters all you thought you’d know
it mutates all you’ll do
and what of that long dark, shadow cast / ruthless / profound / ill-fated
oh what we keep
quiet
and carry
quietly
keeping (closed) close
what we
carry
hacking and cutting away / hacking and butchering away
|
||||
2. |
|
|||
|
I feel it, it’s coming; ‘lure of the skin’
with your slick sickly verbiage; seeding a sin
the onrushing turbid tide of the fervour of your ire
(these) successions of your kin (is a) creed cultured by clan
without end
i feel it, it’s here; keen cleaving limbs,
with your fierce dogged malice; seeding your sin
left lame and vacant, with a vile sense of self
until time without end i’ll be carved from ruin
without end
until time without end,
i loose.
because i have this kind of form, it happened to be
because i have this kind of body, it happened to be me
|
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3. |
|
|||
4. |
the fable of subjugation
09:20
|
|
||
|
i am a man who loves you purely
i am a man who needs you truly
you are the one thing
the one thing
only
have faith in me, for i’ll not ever err
because your beauty is so hard to hold
your force… so lawless and rash
allow me to prevail
over
all
your lure
oh but please do not misread me!
for what i wish of you may be wild -
my love runs deeper than your ocean’s blue
thus,
my love for you must be pure and true
you are the one - the only one thing
your beauty - it’s so hard to behold
your force - it’s so lawless and rash
give me your gift and i will relish with you!
i am the one who wants you more
i am the one who needs you most
i am the man who loves you more
i am a man and i need you too
you are the only one
you are the only thing
you are the only one thing
|
||||
5. |
|
|||
|
no one ever really sees the caliber of how and what it takes away;
nor the perversion of an entire life by way of words no one wants to say.
born from this manic ‘coveting’, is a body self loathing.
in the grips of their barbarity and cunning, births a mind self harming
with your pageantry of fracture and shock, under the veil of shame there lies
bruised pride and ‘sorries’ to save face, while you wait among the words others don’t say.
this thus edifies that odd veneer; granting furlough to all you artists of ill.
you are witnessed so you lay there latent, between every word no one still won’t say.
yes
no one ever really sees a body self loathing;
nor the perversion of an entire being with their mind self-harming.
yes.
no one really sees.
behind everything i now do, there is the thought of you.
behind everyone new i greet, i query who they can really be.
the lens from which i now see, is through what they’ve forced on me.
behind all i do,
there is,
the knowledge of you.
|
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6. |
the ten of swords
03:27
|
|
||
|
a slight shift in the eye
fixed and opaque
i forced
you
away
expendable torso
limbs like offal
you have damaged
though others have done worse
all it births
is grave hurt
|
||||
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