IRC-Galleria

There, in the nether
In the lower levels,
Where rays of the Sun won't reach
Light shattered into pieces
While sinking into depths
The seas so lifeless, yet something is
Still alive beneath everything

The figures of mortal staring
Dormant silhouettes of shared fate
Deranged nature of these souls
Wander in this darkness where you sink
No matter where you go

Cold place to be stuck in, hibernating the consciousness
Feeling related to these dormant souls
Friends with no words to speak, no emotion to reveal
Only bearing tongue of a serpent and a halo of an angel

Singing their hymns of nether prophets
Blessing you with their curtains of denial
Curtains of reasons not to rise
Not to rise from this dormant conscience

There are four seasons
On this barren and eroded soil
Where cold, nightly winds blow the tempest

The first of the season is the burden
The burden bends the system
To crumble and collapse

And so it bends and cracks to its downfall

Seasons changing only once during this planetary lifetime
Mother Nature put to test in her darkest season, pressurising

So the season changes when her tears touch the earthly sands
Oceans waving like a crystal walls, so intense
The season of winds and darkening skies, nature unbalanced
When the souls of past life find themselves in the middle of nowhere

The nature dreaming the new era of life
Falling asleep to forget the failure and revive as anew

The dreams, the pictures, in her hands to control
Last season beginning, the burning of the past

And so the gone era burns in the hands of time
Such a violent flame, cleansing to create new future
The ruins of beings absorbed by the voids of space and time
Floating memories in the dark to be created once again

In this empty chamber, where it's ghosts lie, shedding tears
And sitting next to a fading one around its bleached death bed
As the cold waves overpower this constantly weakening heart
Thou seek reasons to your phantom pain, your silhouette soul

You have no place to keep the pain within
Not even in outlines of your soul
In complete denial and ignorance, depressed
Similar to your hopeless past life

Thou kneel to the wall
In this empty chamber
The wall which you cannot see
This chamber is empty, even with you
There you sit, in the middle
Of these shapes of shadows
Walking past your both sides
Reminding of your meagerness

In your darkest hour, the downfall
Concieving your thoughts of the desperate
Giving a reason to your madness
Reason to disappear

A phantom pain in empty champer
You are the intact, numb and lost limbs of nature

There, near my being of innocence
There stand the colossal figures
Their eyes staring into something empty
Counting years, decades, milleniums

Their ravaging silence
Storms and circles which never end

Constantly moving, the powers we possess
Bearing our torches in the nightsky
Defining the world and it's shape
And creating always something new

In death, in birth, we shine, we prosper

All my life I've been staring at these beings
Whispering them wishes and questions
Sometimes I could hear them whispering back
Their light, so embracing, in the middle of these shadows
Bringing the shapes to life, which were hiding from daylight
Hiding from our Sun, under the rocks and trees

You scattered lives
Far away from our paths

You millions pairs of eyes
The same, curious sight
Asking things we cannot tell

The world evolving through us
Opening doors to new mysteries
The physics does not define us
It's bending from our colossal force

All my life I've been staring these beings
Whispering them wishes and questions
Sometimes I could hear them whispering back
Their light, so embracing, in the middle of these shadows
Bringing the shapes to life, which were hiding from daylight
Hiding from our Sun, under the rocks and trees

As the new morning rise
Illuminated by our Sun divine
The circulation completes once again
Here we stand acquiescent and open

To the revealing and closing sky
When all yet burns or freezes to the core
To the waving or dormant landscapes
Living beneath as tectonic plates

It is ticking
The hammers echoing
Embers flying past the Sun
The materia as a witness

As the hammers beat and shape
The cognitions and interpretations
Shape the worlds to collide and divide
Every moment shifting into something new

Universal languages of the stars
Overwhelming dark matter in touch
Moving the hammers of creation
To create, to shape, to burn and complete

The sounds of neverending matter
In the sky it bursts its power

All the space around
Fulfilled with rage and heat
Hatred culminated into
The Fire in its Finest

All the millions of years
Centuries as long as days
Enlightening the spheres
Of the antropomorphic beings

Seek the answers
From the orbs in the horizon

The fire that devours
The other one creates
Brings death to another
So the future can be born again

Seek the answers again
From the orbs in the horizon
Connect your meanings with the night
And embrace them in daylight

The Secrets of the nature
All the mysteries in the stone
The sands fade the time
Winds harvesting the past away

The grand orb of white flame
The Fire in its Finest

Hail the Sol, Hail the Arcturus
Alfa Virginis, Alfa Leonis, Canis Majoris
Let us be in your moment of time

Shining it's elemental warmth
The prismatic light of the nightsky
Cold and intense bursts of winds
The mark of their power

Their symbols in the constellations
Almost in the palm of my hand
Reflecting from my eyes
Back to the horizon and beyond

The sigils of firmament
Part of our inner being

They remain still as skies weep
The pouring frost in the air
Covering the land in its tears
Ceasing the life for a moment
Lands beautifully aligned
Waiting for their time

My naked body in this abyss of light
Singing my serenade to the dark
My shadows whimper before me
Creating a song for their annulment

As the vast forests turned to white
The grand construction of celestial sphere
The eyes of this absurd nature, observing
My sere spirit, blinking once its eyes

The land giving birth to a mountain
In the middle of this forest
On the top of this acropolis
Where I appear as a servant

I can sense the shadows
On this rising tor of stone
As the sigils of firmament fade
This everlasting night tarnishes
Here I wait for the Sun to rise
Now as I'm marked by the night
Marked to become part of all
To become a star in the sky

-Isth

Silent lands, noise of placid morrows
The noise of silence and nature
Seas remain calm, lakes untouched
The rise of non-human culture

Winds have no force, no one staring the Sun
No one imagining figures on clouds
No living feeling the breeze of a wind
Nor the shining beauty of the Winter

Overall life force flowing beneath
Through the petrified figures of the living
When history remaines unwritten, forgotten
Hidden statues of past, future led into ash

As the trees whimper in storm
As the hands of immortal reach the leaves
Through its arms the leaf flies away
Leaving the one in confusion

What is left
From the cold sky and horizon?
Tainted spirit within ourselves

What is left
From burnt ground and forests?
When definition of human becomes higher self

Through the stone and ice
We push ourselves through
To achieve, to prosper with riches
We create as we speak

Due to the laws and prosperity
Human life is no longer relevant
Define life and death as the will of God
Even when a man dies in pain, hunger and misery

Bid your farewell, your valediction
To the weaker minded herds
Swear loyalty to yourself and Satan
Open your eyes to your true nature

What is a human to tell the difference
To put itself into the center
The crowned man of species
Of the weak animal race

Aknowledge your weakness
No longer live behind the wall of mist
This is the fall of christian oppression
This is The Manifest of the Creation

Down below, beings with masks
Enslaved kings, immoral souls
Those who embraced the false
In the darkness their voices repeat

The same, soothing prayer
Which dragged them into damnation

The prayers live as a drug
Which creates illusions
Spreading the pestilence
In the inner core

Summoning the hope
With spineless faith
In their eyes they can only see
A bare reflection of vanity

The mirror of past
Standing there broken
No God, creation nor human
Can see through its pieces
Stubborn human race
With the weakest will created

And so history repeats itself
Still humans depend on words

The truth is not to be accepted
Nor is it to be avoided
Some live in denial
Some in chosen delusion
There are beings wise enough
To be aware of the deceit

-Isth