And Hell Followed With

ckened breath.
My flesh enveloped in this most disgusting forms of mortal indulgence.
Do not deny me pleasure, for we now unabridged will be complete as I shall rest inside of you forevermore.
In orgasmic captivation am I pleased with such voracity.
Let go your moral anchor and descend beside me.
Our hands, in flesh made metaphor, entwined forever.
This love I have offered in banquet, be yours.
The entombment within, my only desire; the beating of your frail heart to serenade the sleepless nights.
My hands around your throat, your teeth embedded in my flesh.
I am enthralled in vile lust.
Let your desire consume me.

3. Deadworld Reclamation
It seeks to be released.
The fragments of a once brightened disposition are blackened in misanthropic disgust of all that has unsettled from within.
In mere repulsion, so ravenous the innermost.
My form contorts in disbelief; my patience attenuated.
In the arousal of so foul a stench, my very structure distorts.
From beneath ever grinning lips doth vile corruption run.
As black as the midnight air does it pour from my mouth, now agape.
In the amorous arms of iniquity held is my porcelain form of frailty debased.
Defiling, the ground beneath me now corrodes.
A force unto this earth bestowed, seething in noxious lament.
Pooling from my very base does this eclipsing tide seek only to envelope.
This loathsome liquid of origins unknown from wounds exposed has run from this, my temple, now unto the ground.
From within the purview of this darkest deception does this, oh verminous salvation, befoul the world beneath.
My arms now opened in cruel depiction of Christ, I watch in horror as the world diminishes.

4. In Vastness I Transfigure
Nothing in life could prepare me for such unendingness.
The cadence of my heart began to swell as I beheld what no man had ever before.
A simplistic procedure now the bane of my entirety.
From sternum to pelvis, the incision cleaves the sky above the silent tomes within.
And my eyes beheld such vastness that I had never know before.
This madness thus made flesh beneath me stretches beyond comprehension.
"Do these mortal eyes deceive?" I question as I kneel before eternity.
By what hands and through what means was this monstrosity, this endlessness entombed beneath the flesh of a man?
This index of untold dimensions and length containing every moment and thought of not only he, but of we the entire race.
Our very existence cataloged like fables in paper and ink.
Can such a word callous hearts such as it now shall mine forever?
Existence?
If we feeble things can call it such.
Enveloped in shadow, my heart in disarray, I descend through endlessness within.
My very purpose now in question for I remain so small amidst their glory (the stars).
The edge of the scalpel caresses my throat, a means to an end in fear of all I have known.
I have now only the screams of my former physical self.
The sound of its suffering comforts me for it is all I know in this infinite darkness.

5. Rotting Procession
My lungs they no longer draw breath.
The stench of aeons past, my very flesh corrupted.
I, the embodiment of decay.
Forever changing, stagnant no longer.
This temple, this organic structure, shadowed beneath swarms of flies.
How eager do their wings seek my carry.
A lord amongst atrophy am I.
The seed of undoing germinates within me, seizing my nervous system in so disgusting a manner.
How sickeningly do I hunger.
Morals corrupted through appetance.
This perversion, this desire, I shall no longer refuse.
How unnerving my silence, but even in silence have you trembled.
How loathsome that which enshrouds me.
Oh, my beauty, the mirth of my desire.
How lecherous that within me grows, I beseech your forgiveness.
Oh, Death, eternal requiem, how your decaying hands shall stay my feet no more.
My head anointed in disgust, it irrigates these veins.
With a hunger so profound, that not even my love for another could prevent me from appeasing.
My mind, my very thoughts, have become this sickness embodied.
I won't stop until the screaming does.

6. Dismantle
With unease have I slept these past months.
Her stride burning bright the confines of my dreams, the sleight of hand unleashing this perfection.
To such heights she will grow.
Horrors deriven, ye who stand atop wondrous pyres.
You breathe eternal that no darkness shall withhold.
In favored fascination do I covet thee so.
And I have thirsted to bathe beneath such radiance, among the dancing of your flickering robe.
No encumbrance embracing your swell, for no barrier could contain.
Only in morbid imaginings have I dreamt of this cremation, the joining of my ash to your unending tenure.
I who have awoken such madness ask only this pittance of appeasement; to burn eternally in your loving arms.
And to the dismay of my every thought does she look down upon me in faces of aversion; her breath, her grasp cauterizing the tears I have shed.
Such multitudes of sorrow I would welcome if it meant only your loving embrace,
yet these woes I shall know eternal for I still breathe alone.
And the sea of flames, folding in on itself, swallowed whole the entirety.
How the roar of that which remains untamed brings me the only joy I this world have ever known.

7. One Of The Swarm
The scent of oh purest carnage, familiar to these hills.
My father hath traversed these lands decades before my birth.
A century doth pass by, the veins of the earth entrenched with the millions of dead.
So few have my eyes seen in passing of glory.
The aesthetics of death painted upon the canvas of so bewildering a scene.
All sensations seared, all of my compassion numbed.
My humanity wrenched from behind my lungs.
The lusts of my bayonet, in crimson display have spilled upon these hands.
From beneath my helmet do I glare back in sickening approval of the malice we many have sewn.
My mind sentient of no reason, my face caressed by this foreign wind.
A pulmonary incantation writhes beneath these ribs, crying in blood drunk verse and beguiling my conscious thought.
The how of descending mortar fire illuminates this blackest existence, a serenity wreathed in flame.
The skies were beautiful as they burned.
The dead roll over in their graves.
Above the mortars, my ears discern my father screaming in his grave.

8. A Welcome Displeasure
It was in tragedy of reflection that is, oh purest of nights was to drink incessantly from these veins.
Beauty in comparison to no other.
A standard made in flesh will in sickening glory run feverishly upon the razors edge.
Admiration, this night shall end.
How she loathes the sight of herself.
And with every frantic thrust, her pallid, supple veins (showered in orgasmic tides of crimson) have quivered st their very sight.
What once was desired is now a mere sickening depiction, a face so macabre.
Convulsions induced by vomiting.
No more a seductress, no less a queen.
In detest of her mere reflection, her youthful complexion once adorned.
The paths carved through arterial fabrication at the hands of herself.
You disgust me, she screams with hoarseness in her throat.
The razor, its soliloquy silences all: how beautiful its merciless sway.
Her eyes, they close for one last time.
All impurities unwashed in this filth and dishonor.

9. Those Now Sleep Forever
So still I remain beneath the stars.
Their transient majesty blankets the sullen.
The sound of the complacent tranquility whispers into my deafened ears.
How fragile and taciturn, the breath of the night: a disturbance amongst us in wake of my stir.
My rest will in frustration wait as I have promised to shepherd my brothers.
Beneath obsidian skies, I am compelled only through stubborn nature.
I think only to harbor the adulation that in flames of passion or war will never burn.
The discordant winds of war, its acrid scent stinging my eyes, can never blind the love I possess.
And in silence have I sworn to remain ardent and impassioned.
And may no enemy encircling lay hands upon which I so feverishly love.
I shall never abandon you, so speak not a word not another word.
I'll be right here by your side.
Though the burdened crown of weight upon weakened column shall end.
I with dying breath have appeased this macerating creation by human hands.
Oh how glorious the silence, all iniquities bereaved as it descends to Earth on this most shameless of evenings.
I will never know another night to be the same.
May the resonating word of this memory burn brighter than the spirit of my youth: that I perished the last of vitality
so that others may persist so that my brothers may live on.

10. From Burning Sentiments
This will not end tonight.
I have bared witness to tragedy in many and my refusal to accept this will end all suffering.
The blackened horizon beclouded by the presence of Gothic architecture.
The eyes of this decaying waste shall see that there is hope.
There will always be hope And in my refusal to drown beneath the currents,
I with calloused hands have reached into the abyss and drawn forth from the night's breast the light of another once faded.
I am no hero.
I seek no restitution for the charity of my will.
My coruscated pasts shall never be distress my beating heart.
I refuse to let the voracious tides of depravity consume this life.
And with the grace of my comforting hand, I have removed the grey blanketing mist that had rested upon her eyes in seek of eternity.
What once was dead now breathes again, eyes open to the world around.

11. VenomSpitter
My senses, how their impairment embitters me.
With each rise and fall of my chest do I breathe such fire.
Maintaining this caricature lacking opposition, I have stained the sheets of so fair a berth.
I've wept for aeons in the maelstrom of vile addiction.
The hounds, their symphony, accompanies me no more.
The ties of depravity, my heart now ensnared.
How I have hung my head in regards to such shame, morals conflicting my disposition.
The discolour of my will, now afflicting the neurotransmitters now prevalent in my despair.
With Id-like intent am I enclosed within such parameters.
Though mortified, I am not bewildered.
Colossal defeat, I shall ascend your cliffs again.
I have not yet rested in my grave.
This will not be my undoing.
Thine ashes encompass me, countess of all repulsions.
In ruin have I fashioned such wounds, to forever reconcile these memories.
I will kneel no more.
Oh, darkest of venoms, I draw thee out.

12. Perpetual Abyssma
[Instrumental]

13. The Greatest Deception
[Bonus track]

I am not easily fooled.
I see no difference between you and all the others aside from you being the alpha male of just a different pack of wolves.
You said that this conflict would end with you, yet since you've come to be, I've seen more of my friends and family sent to war.
Our economy has worsened, yet government spending keeps increasing.
How can a capitalist nation punish small business with higher taxes, then like cattle, drive their business to the
companies in your pockets?
Your posters line the streets like something's changed since you've taken office, yet we've seen no difference.
This country was founded on the escapism of trusting one man, yet now I see entire families hang your portrait above their dinner table.
You swore that you would better all our lives and children's, still half the middle class's earnings go to the Federal Reserve.
The world has seen idle worship like this before; in Nazi occupied Europe in the 30s.
This is cultism at its finest; a wave of nations putting all their faith into your hands.
You lying bastard!
Those many suffering supported you simply to end this war.
Your charismatic features on TV screens, smiling softly and speaking of hope and change, held above their heads like a promise to bring back their dead children.