Monday, October 09, 2006

vinum sabbathi.

Extracted essence of the stone
Narcotic of the faceless ones
I awake on planet black
Freezing moon, no turning back

Now I'm a slave to the black drug
Forced to serve this black god
I thought myself a master of the arts
This dimension of misery is my penance

Forbidden sorcery
Vinum Sabbathi
Forbidden sorcery
Vinum Sabbathi
Forbidden sorcery
Vinum Sabbathi
Forbidden sorcery
Vinum Sabbathi
Forbidden sorcery
Vinum Sabbathi
Forbidden sorcery
Vinum Sabbathi
Forbidden sorcery
Vinum Sabbathi



written by electric wizard
from the album "dopethrone"

lone.

1 vision & vise.

one horned god said:
"one horn."
another came and said:
"two horns.."
the next horned god said:
"crown of horns......"

"still alive?.."


2 lovely & gone

this is
the highest of high
i am saved

my eyes looks so happy..

i am not alive without you

you replace no one.
you can never be replaced.


3 lying & down

here i feel away from my own kind
dim..and almost too dark
even for the short-sighted.
drowning is not dying

succumbing is all nurturing
for you will prey

it is so cold
no matter how strong your nerves are..
NEGATION


4 listen & still

alone
she fell down some stairs...

the sound resonates to where i look,
with rats living above the ceiling walls.
too much to think,
when there's having to bite
more than you can chew

how fancy sitting down
meditatively,
watching mildew smouldering
in this
quiet darkness.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

too.

had a dream
cleansing through extinction.

images:
a limbless man getting head;
just another to
kill your own.
a butcher,
in agonizing stench
no remorse to a life,
what it is
to feed.

a noble
kneeled down so humble
praising the AK-47.
children stomachs churning
rejoicing
money thrown in the air.

people in barong monkeysuits
they all look tidy
but they all look down happy.

what is unfathomable
i see us musicians
hymn for solitude
so nurturing
distanced from

ourselves.
beautiful
lying on her black wings
pleasing herself
bed ridden to inexistence.
i see her stitches
for charitable chastity.

a grown man
weakened
dining in the toilet seat
festering in still life photography.

damned.
those headlights alter us everywhere
with desaturation
i saw this prostitute
orally fixated
she made love to a revolver.

a priest
his silhoutte backlit against a door,
closely he ponders
reaching for his groin.

the walls painted white
dimly lit
with words drawn
in blood all over

a recipient of substance
how will we pity
empty bottles, unlighted
he stares aside as grief entombs
heartless and bloodless
just smoke
and void.

the television is on
a couch potato family entranced
suppertime brought no less
and i see my national flag
static-wise.

christ's picture
slips down my wall,
it hangs still
on the loose end of the pin.

here is hell.
i wish it be
had a nightmare.

i was awake.