Clandestine Blaze - God on the Cross

Eye to eye with the process of imminent chaos
An unexpected turn of events, unable to be foreseen
Fragents of Teeth cackling inside mouth
Splintered nails staining the victim's throat

Life as awakened from the dreams
In abundant surge of energies...
Blood of the enlightenment!

Constricted around his neck skin
Various shades of blue
Body losing its tension
Tongue found the bleeding wound from my own lip
The taste of blood and the sore, torn skin's surface
...And I could feel a near life experience

Life as awakened from the dreams
In abundant surge of energies...
Blood of the enlightenment!

To truly engage, to be one with existence
To be part of the processes of transformation
To awake from dormant states
To taste the abundance of chaos which intoxicates

To feel the thorns like sacrificial daggers
To step on a path of ascending trials
To exit the banality of illusions
To drink the blood of the enlightenment

Life as awakened from the dreams
In abundant rush of energies...
Evevrything of worth comes with a price!

Life as awakened from the dreams
In abundant rush of energies...
Drink the blood of the enlightenment! Открыть страницу с текстом

When feeble men ruled a paradox was born
No longer enthralled in front of power and might,
but wanting to kneel for the weakness:
God as a representative of the lowest of men!

Like foul excrement on display for cheap amusement
A submissive jew nailed to the croess - a god of the lowest of men!

Who else could kneel and weep in front of such disgrace
if not the fallen and failed examples of species?
Helplessly crawling in mud, unable to even rise to their own feet
Now with even their object of worship below themselves...

God of inglorious men on the cross
Crucified by blood thirsty brutes
Fearful men searching for salvation
Granted by a creature of their own kind

Image of their god - not an image of power and might
Instead - the embarassing god on the cross!
The submissive jew

Who else could kneel and weep in front of such disgrace
if not the fallen and failed examples of species?
Helplessly crawling in mud, unable to even rise to their own feet
Now with even their object of worship below themselves... Открыть страницу с текстом

They perceived valiant men in need of a cure
Tangled something that was yet to be corrupted
Through indoctrinations of Abrahamic morality
they offered baptism in sewers of sin, disguised as a cure

What would look like the men cured of their natural strengths?
Caged, sick, self-hating sinners!

Like the beast once so valiant
Trapped in cages of grotesque gardens
Following the whiplashes of the master
Similarly transformed into travesty of man

What would look like the men cured of their nature?
Caged, sick, self-hating sinners!

Tamed hearts!

Poisoned, ruined and fearful
Suspicious towards all that was strong and glorious
Self-pitying, crawling in illness
Caged behind concepts of servitude

How different would be the noble advance man
Not tamed like animal servants, not a victim of a slave morality
But the one gloriously opposing mundane mud
The suffocating abundance of subhuman mass

What would look like the men cured of their nature?
Caged, sick, self-destructive sinners!

Tamed Hearts!

Gospel for the lowest examples of the species
Preached to the frailest, preached to the poorest failures
In universal opposition to all that could triumph
Grown from the vile Abrahamic root
Fertilized by the excess of hideous scum Открыть страницу с текстом

What was vailed under the layers of empathy
What was veiled under the layers of altruism
Beyond the complex structures of man's decadence
...We were destined to discover

What were the ingredients discarded in this tragedy of humanization?
We stared at the mysteries, eye to eye
Looking at the diminishing spark of the soul of man...

Black leather gloves ceremonies of passage
Our faces display no anger nor hate
No emotion what may hide under the skin
Exercises in cruelty...

Study of noble beasts who knew no remorse
Who knew no regret
Who saw no illness in acts of cruelty
Excess within the play of life and death
Exercises in cruelty...

Study of noble beasts who knew no remorse
Who knew no promise of better to come
Who saw no illness in acts of cruelty
Excess within the play of dominance and conquest
Exercises in cruelty...

What else could emerge from empathy and altruism
if not a cesspool of disabilities?
if not celebration of cancer and plague?
Unlike the liberation we could dream it to be,
it covered the world like endless landfills
Bubbling with the foul reek of human decay
Undead masses of weaklings smiling as if enlightened

What lies in front of us
when learning to appreciate cruelty?
To be an agent of the process
Where the meat-grinder of existence eats helpless human mass
that exists only because of the tragedy of humanization

Peeling layers under skin, in ceremonies of passage
Exercises in cruelty... Открыть страницу с текстом

If we would observe the birth of awareness as a curse
unaffecting insect-like human mind?

See how it invokes terror within minds slightly advanced
that are seeking to cope with the given perception?

If we would observe insect-like behavior to be a salvation
from the possession of emerging doubts?

Coping with the ordeals
The little that waits ahead
To find the tranquil acceptace of the total death?

Horrors build within questions:
If it all was in vain?
If nothing has actual meaning?
If the quest for knowledge leads into pure darkness of zero answers?

Men yearned to the stars to find answers
Yet could only find cold hostile radiation of death

The hand of destiny leads you to the grave
Through a life of miserable ordeals
Decaying pages of history barely grasping what happened
And even less of its reason

...If the quest for knowledge leads
into endless silence with no answers..?

Swarming human insects below our feet we walk!
Rejection of fearful questions finally interlocks with the perception of existence
Like vindicators we are storming towards the vortex! Открыть страницу с текстом

To awaken the living gods within
Determined to walk through the paths required
If it means our empire will be generating
choirs wailing during mundane tribulations...
If it means lesser men will weep
when impaled on spears of steel...
So be it!

Reaching the new aeon shall be the goal
Even if the attempt seems futile, no lesser goal is accepted
If it means an empire is to be built
inside trenches of blood...
If it means our troops shall wear
the tanned cloaks made of enemy skin...
So be it!

Triumphant empire
Onwards, with no mercy! Открыть страницу с текстом