---

Shrines are a stillborn faith for insecurity to drown into. And along this hollow path towards them, the hollow ones seek on. And all it can find it consumes. Somewhere along its lonesome journey towards the end, it thinks and tries to grasp for a meaning. But in the end, that what he consumed, consumes him too. And to the big hollow he returns.



Shifting through concrete

In passive sway

Guideless compulsion

to de-celebrate

The pulse of god

by Morgues engaged

The stubborn sense

of dreams and faith

Wide open caskets

In the white of day

This Day of laughter

This Day of fate

Mordred silhouettes

Hallelujah Hallucinate

...Nocturnalized

In Foreverness engraved

"He who lives in the desert and finds himself alone in strength by absence of what's above or below him, he shall be risen to immaculate heights, and he shall dance with devil's at the table of undying truth and be taught; nothing! For nothing fills the will with existence, and existence knows that knowledge shall perish. For as it once came, it forever shall leave us, again and again and again..."

Shrines of apathy

Magnetic graves

Inactive but thorough

Triumph of age

But ageless as the stars,

will there bloom a lucid state?

Will the soulless be freed

from hunger, before we obliterate?

Force-feed me with dormancy

I need a ghost of death in me

Don't wake me up I need to leave

The white of day it shines through me

No reflection, no compassion

No tomorrow's satisfaction

Fill my shrine of apathy

And lay my bones to rest in thee

"...For nothing fills the will with existence, and existence knows that knowledge shall perish. For as it once came, it forever shall leave us, again and again and again..."