1. |
Instruments Of Torture
07:14
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Instruments of torture
line the inside of my head.
All named for imposters,
all given a specific taste.
In rows of reciprocation,
armaments beam deceit.
Perfectly weighted,
hanging behind the face.
Glittering chunks
of needless aggression
shining flagrantly abound.
Pieces of perfection,
eager as beaten beasts.
Virgins to violation
only for now.
Gently I take them,
drawing down each desire.
Gently I take them,
embracing violent means.
Balance through subtraction.
The weak always moan.
Maximal bodily harm,
slice the fat flesh
of a hollow existence
emptied by vacant consumption.
The gutters of a civilized cage
thick with fluids of waste.
Life at a point of complete contempt,
at a total capacity of vile thoughts.
A mile wide smile of knives,
dripping with committed sin.
I feel the easing pestilence,
The glowing satisfaction of buried blades.
This place feels warmer,
A rotten spot removed from its hide.
In orders of magnitude,
slashes sever the entire earth,
fracturing its flooded face.
Bleeding continents shake,
Separate and show rotten bones.
An act of filicidal rage.
Total ruin of an empty cage,
roots push apart ribs.
Monument to inevitable nothing.
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2. |
(E)met
07:03
|
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|
A rotting heap of the inanimate
kneaded in to a shapeless husk:
The golem of pestilential politics
and thought, the nadir of humanity.
Swing the scythe, find only famine.
The crops of the mind, withered and barren.
Sewn with the sterile seed of existentialist delusions.
A bruised yellow succor to prelude
black ink from a chewed tongue.
Perspiring hands passing down Sisyphean knowledge.
A slipping grasp on the cliffs of actuality.
Crush the nib underfoot.
Sunlight accentuates pallor, the oblong body of descent.
Inherently meaningless time.
Witness the plummet.
Intelligent we may be, we wander stupidly.
Watering a dead tree with bleach, pouring acid on a burn.
A crater upon the indents of my skull,
an impact of discontent and dripping hate.
The primer of malaise burning
rapidly in an echo chamber aflame.
Douse the homes with gasoline
and gawk at the approaching flame.
Send skyward a strike to the righteous end.
Rockets over a fawning populace,
like the shit of vultures into their mouths.
Blanket a cesspool of eager bugs.
Lodge deep society's deserved death.
Glee for the god disease, lust for all's suffering.
Final respite, instant decline.
Deep in the hole of every hollow creature,
deep in our vacancy,
the longing for true emptiness.
Absence of any thought.
Swing the scythe, find only famine
Mud formed men, conscious of the dying dirt.
Lowest level life lined up for nothing.
Death at deluded bedside,
death with innocence intact.
A circle of other liars, dreaming open eyed.
Such wretchedness in immortality;
may murder cease me.
Pure extermination of all consciousness,
may I know not a thing.
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