Immolation

Snared, and fettered
Chained to hope eternal
Freedom is waiting
Just there, you see
Around the corner it lies
And when the sun streams down
In a glorious display of dawn
On the wanting faces of the broken
They will cry out as one

May fire scorch the wicked
And return the world to ash

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Waste

Falling softly, ever green
The wind amid the pines does sing
Tell me now, what is your folly?
Do roots suckle poison
While leaves light the sky
In glorious array
Drink from below
Slowly waste away

Meaning

Would the world halt its motion
If it ceased at once to have a meaning?
For reasons are found in the smallest things
From stone to bird to singing stream
The avail is still unknown, it seems
Or perhaps there is none at all
And there never was, only dreams
Pretty images formed in lost minds
To justify a meaning so hard to find
For what is a life devoid of reason?

Perhaps they are wrong
For in the absence of truth
There is no lie
There is only a canvas
So perhaps, with the right mind
And with appropriate materials
Something so bare and hollow
Can be brought to be more
Even than words uttered
Terribly by the breadth of being

I’ve Completed a Short Film!

I’ve spent the past few days working on a small project, which I am glad to announce is finished! It is called Forlorn, and you can view it here.

It was a very fun and gratifying project to work on, and I think I’ll probably be doing a few more videos in the future. Special thanks to the people who helped me make it, I couldn’t have done it without them!

Asymptote

Immolation brought something I couldn’t see
Not from where I was
Safe in my inhibitions and doubts
But there was something illustrious there
Or maybe destructive

How could I know?

What was left, what was found
In those dark places
That swallow hearts and minds whole
Maybe we should all be afraid

Maybe that’s

No wait

Gone

Foe

A sun settles over chasing dawn
Looming fate approaches drawn
By carriages of hate that ramble
Reprobate to wander willing of that
Which elevates soul to levels
Thrice unknown by the deep
And whitish bone man is able
For a while to disable that
Which smiles in the pit
Of sorest bind and fires lit
Matching each the others wit