1. |
The Mother Load
05:40
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The Mother Load
Hiding's man does walk these streets
Scent of flowers he has bought
By the nighted summer breeze
For the lady he has sought.
Shifting shapes beyond the shine—
Love's an alien gutter-scream:
Blunted object-wielding man
Haunts the city's summer dream.
Brings the hammer down
For what it won't bring to him
And the solitary road.
Hammer crashing down
With the mother load.
Shifting shine beyond the shapes:
She claimed she was not the one.
He says one is none and all
When the root's a hidden gone.
Brings the hammer down
For what she won't bring to him
And the solitary road.
Hammer crashing down
With the mother load.
Sullen crave that drives her dream,
Yet his promises were none.
Stained with stiffen'd black unblood
From the deeds that he's non-done.
Brings that hammer down
For what none can bring to him
And the solitary road.
Hammer crashing down
With the mother load.
Brought with hammer down;
For what wasn't given him
Wrought a solitary road.
Brings him crashing down
Does the mother load.
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2. |
Geheimnis
04:16
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Geheimnis
Full of gods this silence is.
Autumn night: hidden light in darkness, this.
Liquid flowing through your presence, silently;
Firelight reflecting therein, partially.
A maze of notions in your gaze, you let me see.
Silent answers as your're listening to me.
The universe unfolds, still one, yet manyfold—
Unfolding in the silent secrets, we have told.
Breathlessly, to descend into a moonlit sea
Of reminescenses, half felt, half known to me.
Geheimnis dieser Nacht,
Diesen Mondlicht, seinen großen Macht.
Do you remember, we looked different
So long ago beneath the sparkling stars of the firmament.
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3. |
Azathoth
05:02
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Azathoth
When age fell upon the world, and wonder went out of the minds of men; when grey cities reared to smoky skies tall towers grim and ugly, in whose shadow none might dream of the sun or of Spring's flowering meads; when learning stripped the Earth of her mantle of beauty and poets sang no more save of twisted phantoms seen with bleared and inward looking eyes; when these things had come to pass, and childish hopes had gone forever, there was a man who traveled out of life on a quest into spaces whither the world's dreams had fled.
Of the name and abode of this man little is written, for they were of the waking world only; yet it is said that both were obscure. It is enough to say that he dwelt in a city of high walls where sterile twilight reigned, that he toiled all day among shadow and turmoil, coming home at evening to a room whose one window opened not to open fields and groves but on to a dim court where other windows stared in dull despair. From that casement one might see only walls and windows, except sometimes when one leaned so far out and peered at the small stars that passed. And because mere walls and windows must soon drive a man to madness who dreams and reads much, the dweller in that room used night after night to lean out and peer aloft to glimpse some fragment of things beyond the waking world and the tall cities. After years he began to call the slow sailing stars by name, and to follow them in fancy when they glided regretfully out of sight; till at length his vision opened to many secret vistas whose existance no common eye suspected. And one night a mighty gulf was bridged, and the dream haunted skies swelled down to the lonely watcher's window to merge with the close air of his room and to make him a part of their fabulous wonder.
There came to that room wild streams of violet midnight glittering with dust of gold, vortices of dust and fire, swirling out of the ultimate spaces and heavy perfumes from beyond the worlds. Opiate oceans poured there, litten by suns that the eye may never behold and having in their whirlpools strange dolphins and sea-nymphs of unrememberable depths. Noiseless infinity eddied around the dreamer and wafted him away without touching the body that leaned stiffly from the lonely window; and for days not counted in men's calendars the tides of far spheres that bore him gently to join the course of other cycles that tenderly left him sleeping on a green sunrise shore, a green shore fragrant with lotus blossoms and starred by red camalates . . .
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4. |
The Sorrow Warrior
08:14
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The Sorrow Warrior
In the maze of forgetfulnesses,
In the maze of all doubts and faults,
Within the haze of internal stresses,
He fights his way through illusion-vaults.
When the enemy is inside
What is there to say?
When the enemy is oneself
Who is one to slay?
Icy sleep of fermented losses
In the frost of his shifts of pain.
A rune-carv'd border he never crosses
Within his haze ev'ry try's in vain.
When the enemy is inside
What is there to say?
When the enemy is oneself
Who is one to slay?
The sorrow warrior, a man of courage blind
In battling shades of gray that into dust him grind.
A fish-scale armour wears he, neither weak nor strong.
Ejected from a world to which he can't belong.
Staging mounts of his emptinesses
Crossing waves of his ocean gray
Seeking comfort in vain excesses
From the depths where his secrets lay.
When the enemy is inside
What is there to say?
When the enemy is oneself
Who is one to slay?
The sorrow warrior, a man of courage blind
In battling shades of gray that into dust him grind.
A fish-scale armour wears he, neither weak nor strong.
Ejected from a world to which he can't belong.
Gray beyond all sense and sentinence
The dimness fills his fields of Mind.
Can't see beyond the void's addictiveness
To take three steps the mist to bind.
The sorrow warrior, a man of courage blind
In battling shades of gray that into dust him grind.
A fish-scale armour wears he, neither weak nor strong.
Ejected from a world to which he can't belong.
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5. |
In the Vale of Pnath
11:42
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6. |
Specimen
05:00
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Specimen
Washed out of muddy waters
After months of rain and flood—
Sending swarty occult scholars
Forbidden tomes to prod—
Are carcasses of unknown
species, half-decayed.
Whether fungoid or crustacean?
The remnants much too frayed.
In the danken, cold, and shady cellar
Keeps the scholar
His own specimen.
On an orb in untold darkness
Where nighted towers rise
Loathsomeness is gathered
Beneath sunless alien skies,
Preparing for the ritual
To their deity without name.
Upon the sooth-stained altar
You spy the off'ring's frame.
In the blood-soil'd, hideous, nameless god-shrine:
A sacrificial
Human specimen.
"I saw the body spread on that dank stone,
And knew those things which feasted were not men;
I knew this strange, grey world was not my own,
But Yuggoth, past the starry voids - and then
The body shrieked at me with a dead cry,
And all too late I knew that it was I!"
(H. P. Lovecraft, Recognition)
In suspended animation,
Unmoved for untold years
You float within your own-shed
Cell-preserving tears.
Now by scholars from your stasis
For studies you are pryed.
Put in jar all neatly label'd
With formaldehyde.
To the dry-skinned, blonde-haired,
Blue-eyed scholar
You're a specimen.
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7. |
The Nameless City
05:14
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The Nameless City
Nameless though not yet forgotten,
A rumour of unsettling dreams
Deep in the emptiest quarter
Sand scorch'd by merciless beams.
The dreams of the arab that mad made him scribble
"That is not dead which can eternally lie".
The riddles of ages long dead and forgotten,
With these stranger aeons even death may yet die.
What was old in the time of the ancients
What stood before the first desert sand
Once at the coast of an ocean
A harbour now in desert land.
Found in cold moonlight are its wind-wither'd ruins
Odd-angled remains abomination in sand
Dimensions pecuilar and the lines intersecting
Could such structures have been wrought by human hand?
Deserted city mongst the shifting sands
A damning sight to see
The nameless city beyond deserted lands
How can such madness be?
Man was not first of Earth's rulers
Neither shall he be its last
'Fore yet the dawn of his rising
The spell of his downfall was cast.
The spectral remains of a once-mighty empire
Withers away in Ozymandian drift
Hiding the gateway of another dimension,
Chiming it through is a Constantian shift.
Deserted city mongst the shifting sands
A damning sight to see
The nameless city beyond deserted lands
How can such madness be?
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8. |
Feline Ill
05:14
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Feline Ill
Desperate, the search to find
Disgust of heart, disgust of mind.
Nothing's lost that wasn't had:
Intoxication lost and mad.
Lingers still the taste and smell,
Lingers like some mocking-spell.
Lack's the name, the missing piece
Nameless, empty urge to sieze.
Deadly silent, desolate scream,
Unforfilled his death-angel dream.
Unshining light, the roaring silence—
Touch of will, a physical cry.
Claws that tear through flesh and mind
Raining through the tears that blind.
Precious drops of ageless wine:
Honour is there? Yours or mine?
Milk'd the dew from a felid-sourc'd stream,
Unforetold now as it would seem.
Unshining light the roaring silence—
Feline ill, a physical cry.
What can ever there be done
When vapours once for breath are gone?
Unreach-directions all the same
And where one stands one can't remain?
Milk'd the dew from a once-sacred stream
Obscur'ly told now as it would seem.
The shadow of a thought forgotten,
Both round and pale-hooked he would find.
Deadly sil'nt, once griffin-wrought scream,
Mare-bedridden, angel-death dream.
Unshining light, the roaring silence—
Felines kill, a physical cry.
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