Exsanguis from Paroxysmal Dereliction by Teratanthropos

Naught, these ways, the union of time and space
Divided by hatred, the truth awaits the exhumation
Enveloped in a cycle of injustice against the prospect of balance restored
No longer - your facade has weakened to frailty

Wrath of the blight
Reflecting upon decay
With glazen eyes
Trained upon oblivion

Only one to blame
Unified in this self-inflicted trauma
So utterly pathetic
Yet tragic beyond our faculties

Must our flesh and blood merge as one?
Must our voices be cut from our throats?
Must we lose all that makes us real?
Must we die to see paradise?

No, it cannot wait
This revelation of iniquity
Grieve us
And grieve for yourself

Distraught among the wreckage and putrescence is you
Our impulse, your pleasure, the bridle and bit
But how can its beauty still devour our will?
When all that we live for is our fucking freedom

Captive
Depraved
Shrieking
Maimed

The soul, this vessel
Rots away, dies across your blood-scrawled tome

Ingrained, latent apathy
Still suckling at marrow to fill your needs

Mutilation and paradox
Reduced to suffer

For your pleasure
At your leisure

Must our flesh and blood merge as one?
Must our voices be cut from our throats?
Must we lose all that makes us real?
Must we die to see paradise?

Wrath of the blight
Reflecting upon decay
With glazen eyes
Trained upon oblivion

Lauda in finem
Praise the end
Lauda in finem
The great scourge

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