Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Lyrics & Fragments

Nature's Arms Encircle All

Straight ahead
To our deaths
Crashing waves defend
Straight to the top, crows nest to spot, we’re sailing westward until the rain stops.
Sail on, souls
Seas our home
Sailing on
Our light out
Sailing on
Drowning white foam
Sailing on

Transmission evident, Shutdown Imminent.
Let go, The setting sun we consume, Sky waves at god, sun pops to grey, why can’t we taste the cold? Suns final days wait inside, Awaken to myself. My shame, my calls to say the onset,my wait self evident softly, my guts, they say again again. Snow, my guts they say the onset, my wait self evident softly. I’ll wait to say again again.
Patterns glowing blue and red, The safety lights have been deferred from glowing.
This snowing, weighs self evident sorrow,
This snowing, weighs self imminent sighs
This snowing, like shame self evident sighed
It’s snowing, so warm self evident
Shine white, suns popped to grey, once again, now shine white hot.
The shadows told the stories of the people and their dying calls.
The shadows told the stories of their law. They told, they promised, they told, for guidance, they silenced, they told the story of you.

The days went cold. We were told. The futures all the way up there. Wise ones came. They called our names. Only certain souls were spared. The armed guard said. The rest are dead. I never even shed a tear. We’re counting down. The warning sounds. Only certain thoughts were shared.
Blast off, into space. Blast off, Save our Place. Leave them all behind. Leave it, shelled in ice. It’s always dark. Suffer the cold, die away.
Blank looks on their face, frozen in place, nothing had changed, and their flesh wont remain, warm to the touch.

It’s false nobility-signs we’ve cast. Life Lived inherently.
Mixed makeshift character flaws masking the pulse.
My question, where have you gone? Where do I go from here?
These questions. When can we live, when can we face these fears?
My question. When can we leave, when can never be now?
These questions. What are our goals, how do we make them proud.
In all this ignorance we know a lot. Listless intelligence, it’s all we’ve got. I’ll say the cost of all this is for not. I don’t have time to ask why I did this. Always asking why we’d continue staying here. Always calming fears, These days are the cost of all our nights. These are the cost of all. These are the cost of all. All of these meaningless questions and pointless aggressions , we’re scratching and straining for your entertaining. For what? What have I done pretty one? What have I done tell me what have I done.
What have-what have I done.

Who Are Willing To Draw Close

Shaking the walls of their cradle.
Breaking the warmth for the cold.
Begging the land for a pardon.
Side Ways.
Where does the sun line?
Where does the sun light us all?
Shedding to shoulders length.
Every sense is sullen.
Where does the sun Lie?
Wait at night.
The sun wakes us all.
Where does the sun Lie?
Fill the tanks up. We’ve surely been leeched of our color, the colors that are bleached by the shades. We’ve always been hungry for cover. Our Sullen vents taking us there.
We’re covered by the concepts, Wake. I smell the change.

Wings of Gate, Winds of Garden, Wings of Gold
Wasting our precious time, Hunting for Comfort
That’s consequence.
Aging our precious lives, Hunting for comfort
It’s consequence.
Slowing our own decay.
Springing from our lives.
Just wait and see why our hearts lie.

Trees, like the gauge, of his might.
Watching, waiting, bending the frost of the night.
Shedding the bark. Bones brittle to sight.
Bending, breaking, joining, the frost of the night
Waiting for dawn, wishing for the embrace.
They say.
Wishing for the embrace. they say, they say, we’ll stay
Stay, Down, save me, anchor my soul, straight to the ground, anchor my soul. They say we should have sense. Why should I care? We should have sense. Hold me down.
And they’re growing in the moonlight, and we’re grazing on the last night, and the breeze lifts up the footsteps, when the grain spins and the night ends. With our arms up to the frost fall, and the white owl gives its last call. When his eyes drift to the seedlings, all the days end when the leaves call.

They stayed the same, with the section unscathed. They say, just let it snow, the section unsaved. They say just let it snow, all night, again. They say risks cost is fine, good night, again. They say, our eyes are fine.
Days cut short of light, snow blind sights to blend

Tidal Lock


Behold, for I am him
The child of dawn lives
I'll be the beacon to cast all your failures
I'll be the darkness inside you, unseen
I'll be the lighthouse and you'll be the weathered
We'll be the flash when the cynics can't see
Shape the accent, The world can't see
Uncover the ears, Their thoughts wont breathe
Take your blinded time
The gaze from their eyes can blacken the ground
Waves from their mouths, the darkest of sounds
The gaze from their soul , the lesser will cringe
A daze in your soul, lesser would pray
Take my Contradictions, My faults, My shame and spread them all around
Free observations of inclinations The hopes of the proud

Twisted and grey. So twisted and grey. Twisted in solace. So wicked
unsaved. so twisted and sullen. So evil unsaved. So twisted and grey.
Wasted and sullen, what can I drink? Blind and insane, weighed by the
heat. Twisted in solace, paradise speaks. Crushed by the sun, begging
near the water's edge. Hold here my son. You can be saved. No need to

Take my hand. Drink from, the sand, quench your thirst. The sun
bleached his bones. So take my hand. Drink from, the sand. Quench your
thirst. The sun, bleached his bones. No life inside. The grains tore
out his eyes. Quench their thirst. He crawled and writhed, his thirst,
still alive. The sun, bleached your bones.

Sand painted souls, patience to sate lost control. Our frail bodies
writhe. Conscious sensations aligned. Patience that we all have
inside. Don't shy away. Patience, grains of sand and salt. Patience
sees us all die away. Just wait and see.


Think of better days. These moments while faded, were true. These
dreams drift away, these stories and journeys consume. Don't think
twice, of bitter days. This journey will always ensue.

Shame, Lies, I'm so alive
Arms, of time, so alive

They promised when the shadows fell, the sun would set, our souls
would sell. They promised me, the end was near. The days went on. In
endless tears. The days still come, the nights not gone. The clock
ticks on, it's all your fault. The sun is set. The sun has set.

Final Threads. Weakened strands. Withered lands. Weathered hands.
Try and stall. Beg them all. Wasted light.


Waves crush, with the tides awake
We'll always stay the same
Every day for weeks

And some would claim they saw a spire. Scratched against a golden sky.
Black glass reflecting. An ocean on fire. Praise not the faultless
within. The tides will lock early. Before the moons and the wind.

Patience impending
Echoes on the walls
Don't fall asleep
Daylight is spending
Echoes on the walls
Echoes on the floor
Tides will speak.
High side low side
Endings down below.
Echoes on the walls
So we speak
We'd disobey the masses
So we could go inside
We'd search for hidden treasure. In fear of the locked tide.

In creation. With the others . Darkened nation. Blacked and shuttered.
As for the stations. Chance to ascend, Go with the others. Ask them
again. With dissipating structures, left in strands on the ground.
We'll cover up our conscience, with these waves crashing sound.
Smashing rocks on the onset, the search for jewels and crowns. A
heartless moments stutter, before our lungs lock down.

Nic Split


Alert Red
Wearing thin
The lines in
My eyelids
I've never been one to shy away from the obscene
Every time I think of it objectively
I would rather die than be pristine
I would love to see my own thoughts bleed
Endless drowning scene, no pulse, no one to hold my head above the water
My thoughts, they punish me
My temples bursting from the pressure
My mind is cannon fodder
hold me then let me free, the pressure persists, I'm dying, but I am not afraid.
live forever , the lines wearing thin on me, I am not afraid, I swear I'm not.


Bastions call to me with doubt, Listen for whispers in the crowds. Living lifeless day end day. Shine, emerald shine.
When darkness fills us all throughout. Our penance is that we'll go without. Begging for light to feed their minds. Shine, Let them shine.
Waning, still bright lights draw them there. Arms open, daring them to care. When you're swept by these emerald signs. Shine, know they'll shine.
Hold them there and there they'll stay, Scale the walls, endlessly, endless crypt, uninspired. Under glass, no desires. Scale endlessly.
Scale to the edge, find a way. Scale.
who can see beyond the edge?
Pressed in amber dark. Waiting for the end. Find no sky.
Reach beyond the edge. look beyond the end.

Lentic Waters split


Crushing, Weight expands eternal.
Aging, our fears will win eventually.
Kindle, a match with my name. The bursting flash is the only way.
Holding, the lights to their face. Our burning fingers will light the way.
Ashes, residual dust. The flame stops burning for all of us.
Holding, the lights to their face, Our burning fingers will light the way.
Searching, we've found a place, to hide among the remnants and fall away.
Take this fleeting moment, Ignite flesh for a vision, it lights the way.The twilight's calling, conceal our fates, Our burning fingers will light the way.
Begging forgiveness for nothing at all, If we see clearly Our visions are false. Asking to see straight then taking the fall. Searching for passage aurora for all.


Raise your arms, give what you owe. Raise your head,
Paved into the grit like veins, Orphaned from the start,
The looks on their face depraved, Life can be so hard
Each new, piece can bring the ether, Black stars, summon all with sight, haste won't ever please the wicked, Our plight feeds upon the night. Black stars turning bright.
Forge constantly, Breathing in the pain, Trail instantly, back into the ether,
Each new, piece can bring the ether, Black stars, summon all with sight, haste won't ever please the wicked, Our plight feeds upon the night. Black stars turning bright.
Branding, their skin, the etch will burn again. Each new piece can bring the ether, burn again. Black stars burning bright, burn again. The flame feeds upon the night. Branding their skin, Burn again.


These five had always taken things into their own hands. The sea was their mother and the earth their oyster. A little snow could never scare them. After all, there was salt running through their veins. Some huddled in fear but not them. No, they would do as they’d always done. Pack the vessel with everything they own and brave the briny deep. There was no storm they’d never seen, no rock on the map unturned. If there was a safe place left on the planet they could reach it.
The ice in the water could be navigated. The wind and rain however was unforgiving and after the third day the sails were ripped and the mast was broken. Before their eyes, the great water opened its mouth and swallowed them whole. It was a good death.

Thanks to their stellar machinery they were prepared for the snow long before the rest. They would simply warm the entire city with radiation as it fell. They were never worried for a moment that their technology would fail them. Not even when the snow short circuited their entire civilization into a nuclear blast. Their sullen forms and smug facial expressions were etched into the concrete that protected their prized knowledge.

The leader told them over the television. There was hope, but it was a small one with bitter sweet undertones. The lottery would be held one week from the day of the announcement. There were a lot of conversations between the children about who would have to stay and who would get to see the stars. The lottery spared no heartbreak. Families were torn apart and it was nearly impossible for the military to keep any sort of order. In the end only ten thousand were able to leave in the ships. If only they’d known space would be as cold and spiteful as the rock they’d fled in the first place.

There were many days of happiness before the reports came. Days filled with sun and smiles, Days filled with family and living. The people in the area grew up here and grew old here. Life was simple and filled with joy. There was always the constant of love for the people here. Their history and lore contained no great oppression or moments of weakness. There were no sad stories, no unhappy endings.
When the reports came, the people felt the twinge of sadness in their hearts for the first time. Mothers wept in the streets for the fate of their children. The shops were closed and supplies ran dry.
When the snow began to fall he asked her to meet him where they’d first made love. He told her that they could try to run, that they couldn’t give up. They both left their homes in the late evening, bundled for warmth. The moment their eyes met they embraced with a kiss. He held her close and told her that their love was like the shallows before them. Though the whole world could come to a stand still and the waters could freeze, it could live on forever encrusted with ice.
He told her to pray near the shallows with him. When she dropped to her knees and clasped her hands together, He closed his around her neck and took her life. She wouldn’t endure the pain and fate of the end of the world. Her end would always be her one true love and his pretty words.

V & VI
They’d burrowed into the underworks of their own accord. Things above were unsatisfactory and they thought it best to remain unseen at times like these. The cities were baron and the lakes like glass long before the freeze would ever reach them. They were cowards in death. Blind and contorted. The great crater, forever their tomb.

He’d been tending to the Forest as long as he’d lived. His father had once told him that his entire family had been planted and grown like the seedlings they shared with the rough dirt in the spring. Late one evening in the fall the trees spoke to him while he meditated. They told him that there was a storm coming and there was no need to prepare for the harvest.
If there was no longer work to be done, there was no longer a need for this form. His feet became covered in moss and his spine rooted directly into the ground. He would rest forever, amongst the forest of frost.

The snow fell and fell and fell. The last animals ceased to move and the plants became lifeless, motionless. In the end there would be no great savior. The world is bitter and cracked. A fragment of what it once was.
Elders would always share stories about a city that had sat gloriously
along the coast. In its ancient splendor it had become a world power.
The black city withered away to become the great ruins. The great
ruins eventually became the forgotten ruins. If you stood on the edge
of the hills outlying the settlement, a keen eye could catch the
appearance of a solitary dark sky scraper. As the locked tides would
fall, a hunger to explore and loot would overtake the onlookers. The
trek across the soft wet sand was inviting. tiny shells cracked and
crumbled beneath the feet of explorers seeking their fortune.

The top floors revealed little more than scraps of wood and rotting
sea weed. Long since looted by starving travelers. But, as one worked
their way deeper the building began to share secrets far beyond any
treasure seekers greatest dreams. Deeper they'd climb. Darker and more
treacherous the search would become. Eventually the treasures would
become so great that even the sturdiest of hearts would be swayed by
want. Seconds became minutes, Minutes became hours. The weight of the
treasure would slow any attempt to ascend the broken steps. All the
while the tides were creeping. Keeping their promise to the moons
unrelenting grasp. The water would press its way home through the
panes of shattered glass. Every soul that dared to let greed sway
their senses would be granted eternity with their chosen rewards.
Sharing only with the tides.

The masters wouldn't let him see the sky, so he scaled the walls long after prying eyes had shut to slumber. In the town center there was a brilliant emerald stone that was said to have fallen before the skyline had been blanked. So many people had told him, that his hope to one day see such a beautiful storm of stone was foolhardy. He was convinced that these storms must still be happening somewhere beyond the walls.
The amber dome that had once been considered a bastion of safety and hope, now imprisoned so many frail souls. Braving the climb and taking a breath of fresh air had long since become a thing of legend. It's cool touch was nearly too much to bear upon exit, and he briefly feared death for the first time in such a short life. When he'd gathered himself, he prepared to see beyond the amber. His gaze lifted and his eyes widened in terror. Such cruel fate to find no sky. Another endless dome as far as the eye could see.

Blood rituals were a rite of passage in the valley of the Crest. It was an understanding between the Gnarled Oracles and the sickly people that resided in the area. A plague had fallen upon the valley before the Oracles had come. Cloaked in grey and red, they charged the price of death to bestow the gift of long life. Those with virtue, were sacrificed to preserve the essence of what once was. The pained cries of those who were burned or etched paid a toll. This toll had become an acceptable trade for those who remembered the suffering and rot the great illness had brought with it.
The oracles were wretched creatures. Ages had passed since any human feeling other than a lust for torment tinged their thoughts. People were nothing more than petty playthings. Creating the plague and fooling the people was hardly a challenge. Convincing them to sacrifice their loved ones to preserve their own health was truly something to be proud of. If humor hadn't long since lost its meaning amongst them, they would have laughed long into the nights, while they etched their twisted history into the flesh of the innocent.

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