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Lycaean Triune



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All music written by Arria Paetus.
Recorded in darkness winter 2016 by Lycaean Triune, Anchorage, Alaska


released December 3, 2016

Mixed & Mastered by Brett Wehmeyer, RuneFire Records, Madison WI

Artwork by Blial Cabal:



all rights reserved


ARRIA PAETUS Anchorage, Alaska

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Again I am intoxicated, drunk off alcohol. 
Drunk off anguish and hate. 
A frozen world in which I do not belong. 

My driving force is negative energy and chaos. 
My passion is hatred. 

I worship only the earth, corpses as altars. 

Inwardly screaming, I submerge myself
Entirely in angst, bathed in torment. 
Unholy Black Devotion. 

Forced to this life, 
surrounded by filth. 
Forever self loathing. 
Made to hide my bestial nature, 
the primal force within. 

I am not one of you 
I am the destroyer.
Scraped back lips unveil 
Tar stained teeth 
In a ritual display 
Of hollow acknowledgement. 

Gestures of futility 
Traded back and forth; 
Used to add meaning 
To a shit life on a shit planet. 
All the while screaming 
And beating fists bloody 
On conjectures in burning minds. 

I thought summer would make me less bitter. 
Sobriety was supposed to be a positive change. 

I was never able to forget what 
It feels like to hate. 

I want to slash my own throat,
I want to watch the arterial spray 
Glistening in the summer sun 
As it stains your shirt. 
I want to see your smile fade. 

I want to slash my own throat,
I want to watch the arterial spray.
Laying neath the serpent's coil,
In a sickly pleasant nest of order and debris.
Wrapped in the husks of conquered pasts,
Cold in the hollow shells of their memory.
Another night met with grimace and blade,
But encountered only by drunks and their tired shame.
Grown sick of the acetic breath of beasts,
Sour and spoiled with failing ability.
They trifle within their safe boundaries,
Scared of the stare of any true challenge.
Sightless and wild like startled bats.
Emaciated and weak from lurking in caves.

This vacant place of lazy cowards and mental disease,
A single track monotony of incompletion and insanity.
Treading impatient around the keep of these transient things,
Surrounded by incompetent beings slithering with gluttony.
Fat and ugly, full of ignorance and wasteful breaths.
Functionless organs filled with shit and despairing.

Lumbering things spouting whimpers and whines.
Patterned creatures, wallowing in familiar pools.

Discontented with the conquered space,
Strewn with thin carcass and empty gaze.
I've come overarmed for their mediocrity,
Draped with the flayed skins of slaughtered fates,
Decorated with the triumphs of unconquerable hostility.
Bland and squandered minds found dripping away.
The long scalps of severed pursuits stare expectantly,
Winding elegantly round the wrist.
Warm without joy in the tedium of present.
The corpses of control rotating through their days.

Encrusted with the bone shards of broken trials,
Shattered bits of spent fists finding nothing to hold.
Unchallenged in an arena of aging sloth.
Misshapen candidates slink back to their squalor.
Bored with the spectacle of chained cattle grazing circles bare.
I gaze back to the beast's endless black,
Awaiting the brush of the dark's burning scales.
Yearning for its transforming scorch.
Within its spinning teeth a purpose.

The close of dimming fears.

And longing like suicide for the grace of destruction,
Hunched and starved like a dog.
The wounds and wisdom come forth slowly,
Only in the depths of utter vicissitude.
Eris, covered in slums,
Shrouded by a crumbling sky.
Living death,
Struck to her fragile frame.

The world escaped
Growing on skin and nail.
Steel towers stand tall
Among desolate homes.

Sticks and stones like totems
To toppled buildings and splintered trees.
A mixture of concrete and loss.
Every inch busy,
Working itself towards the grave.
The culmination
Of what was not wanted.
Harm in a haphazard deposit.

Handprints in pavement
Longer than obituaries.
The constant procession of progress,
Spreading its way across hills.

Occupants drag their heels through veins,
Marching themselves down dismal streets.

The violence of nature chained in place,
A people parading pointlessly
Shoulder to shoulder in place.
Give hubris to the homely,
Have them leave their homes and witness a world just as hideous.
She is invulnerable until broken.

She is birthed broken
In a twisted mass.

The steel and concrete never give.
Shattered bones heal back weak,
the torn skin comes back pink.
I'm drifting through, lifeless,
yet to ask why.
Where I go, swathed in black 
The grey sky threatens to smother the sea. 
The grey sea tries to swallow the coast 
while the coast tries to hold up the sky. 
Above them all the grey gulls cry 

Trudging through this cobalt expanse 
I strive to outrun the coast 
to find out where the sky has collapsed. 
Still the grey gulls circle and call 
Trying to remind me of the absurdity of it all. 
Yet they cry in vain. 

With heavy footsteps 
I walk toward the dreary sea 
No longer encumbered 
I let it devour me.
We are here simply to exist.
Orbiting through darkness,
Surrounded by atmosphere. 

We are here to ponder 
Endlessly on the cosmos. 
Here to breathe 
And wait for nothing. 
I fail to see the point 
Of such speculation. 

Hoping for a revolution 
That is merely 
The tapering end 
Of humanity. 
Man no longer embraces 
Animal instinct
To protect, provide, 
Nurture or delegate. 

Wars are waged in cyberspace. 
We wallow in consumerism, 
Flaunting a bloated sense 
Of self worth based on currency. 
We have allowed our species 
To become feeble and weak. 

How can we speak 
Of progression?
Track Name: CAVE
The craving beasts of ash trees,
Huddled in their basement marquee,
Listing lowly in the hells of their own memory.

Bore from holy prisons of selfish existence,
Hypothermic in the frozen tombs of silent talk.

Wandered on beyond ignorance's icy plain,
Smearing the slow moments with stone broken feet.
Fed on the young fat of failed supervision,
Circling the drain of life's vicious cycle.

Like a roach rich with the remains
Of another poisoned bug.
Fear and trembling, the innocence lost in misery.
Swayed in circles around the slashed feast,
Slit and stilled by the claws upon a gasping wrist.
An audience obsidium, held on a dissonant note.

Of reflection and despair, violence then defeat.
Like a broken needle amid a pile of glass.

Dominated by the dog of their desire, their shame.
Smiling hollow scorn upon the pardoning pleas.

Stripped of skin and blushed with harrowing pain.
Like a pile of black tar and plucked doves,
Set softly upon scratched tile and dirty caulk.
The still pools drooled dry on its broken grid.

Flecked with feathers and the fragments of skull.
Detergent flakes dashing the face,
Like snow in the dark of a dead fire.

Like a crumpled flower, like a bruised fruit.
Creased by a panicked brow, crowned with a crust of blood.
The open eyes crushed to weeping ovals of desperation and despair.
Waning moons wavering in the flame of stinging tears.

The scream of them silenced, the call of them unreturned.
Mercy, oh thee, please relinquish me.

Not near an ear, but locked doors and boarded windows.
Shunted down a spider's hole, the bent limbs broken
To a wilted mass of cartilage and sinew.
Dead branches spilling out in the spaces between.
The soft swell of tissue through a cracked container.
The map of thoughts, flickering as the lanterns extinguish.

The rushing dark screams.
The Spiders fill the cavities like cigarettes
Between my teeth.
Black rot in the crevice of an eager mouth.

Dancing in the caverns of dead children.
Smile sticky with webs, sore with the weapons of neglect.
Raw at the corners from the entrance wounds.
Shadowed hues declaring the deliverance.

I cannot grasp the blooming of these hands.
Split skin reveals the sinew tied taunt to bone.
The flesh does not glisten, veins lie flat and still.
Muscles clump, atrophied and self-consumed.
The calluses prick through, white upon the dullness.
I pull, pry at the crippled claw with impatience.

The pinch slips, caught to the skeleton palm.
Locked to myself, trapped in hells I have wrought.

Silence in a howling of thought.