Reward in Purpose

We suffer, why suffer more? Why bother? Seething, blaming me. Enclave: worship those in control. Glass eyed cyclops: Bringer of blight, purveyor unknown. The sum unspeaking tongues, and voice that equal none Amount to this god we’ve crafted from mud. Awake yet we wait, Enlivened we wander, Rejecting the pure, and corroding the song. Imbibe your cup awaits – incite the psalm. We house, feed and grow. Our voices sink and fold. Quiet. Voices sink and fold. Words so holy flow. Dry your eyes.

Submitted by Finntroll — Apr 26, 2025

A serpent drifts through water, it’s true form skewed by silt Spewed forth in bursts of murky current Hard dark scales. An ancient leveler of egos, a tempest undisturbed Cast aside in the wake of shadows. This writhing figure embodies, fangs sharpened on the bones Of the less aware. I, intrinsically, am here only for my most basic need And so easily am finding myself. Fade away, dog shit Straight line – sick of it. Try to rest, lay to waste Unrestrained, break the gray. How do you fight for this Dusk ends – gone Are the days free to spend Find a time; find a away.

Submitted by Pestilence — Apr 26, 2025

This track is instrumental.

Is this song not instrumental?

Dark daze Lion on a crowd Sight fixed On his master’s throat I’m no sorcerer How can this be? Unrepentant day All your life so cold Look around Go your own Sun Hazed Shrouded in this cloak Painted by the shadow’s stroke I’m no sorcerer take this from me Iridescent beast Light this sage Consecrate Let yourself be low knocked down on your knees alone i’m no sorcerer light your sage concentrate light your sage consecrate leave this place

Submitted by Celtic Frost — Apr 26, 2025

Gathered here to lay to rest: Our thought of malice and discontent. Our word in stone: a libel unveiled. A while now I’ll rest. Alive and awake. Dressed in black, a summer’s Our sweating necks reflected in A glimmering spade. Spare from the wear, Spare the cool touch of clay. Cut by the blade Infected it swells, and it pains me again Left to erode The shallowest grave The hatchet buried But still it is within our reach. Can’t forget or forgive Can’t forsake the foreseen Deep in our heart hate lives. We bury this hatchet We cover the blade Watch the ceremony fade It was you who buried it here It’s my wound my burden to bare.

Submitted by Corpse Grinder — Apr 26, 2025

Motions will be made when others lay. The path untamed lays souls. Hold stoic gaze, and steady pace The other foot drops. Lace break. The first to fall. Pipedream. Onwards we go. Lace frayed – not unreachable. All I’m left with: Words to curse this. Last cans opened, vacant eyes wander to the blade. White fur, our friend: loved; skinned. Stone toed, endless road The first to fall Burdened least of all. Tied your rabbits in holes. One final whispered oath.

Submitted by Finntroll — Apr 26, 2025

In reverse zoom from point of sand to floating moon. In lunar dust. Lesson learned in life, boiling the inside Well without a trace, stuck in your side Remains: Quivering, sinking in, let the light bathe you. The need to force A microcosmic design. To be perceived as one. Calling of the drone Becoming cold. Forager of own, and seeker. Turning preacher. Softly states, all these years How my size fails me now. To be perceived as one While thousands of millions collide Ignorant to this.

Submitted by Dahmers Fridge — Apr 26, 2025

This track is instrumental.

Is this song not instrumental?

Hand on the Stone Wearing at his palm. Molted skin stone. Attrition. Rough hands erode. We can. Regeneration. It’s Sisyphusian in some form. Wearing your feeling fingers down. Legacy his only contribution To a world that’s gone. Fixed in his task. Decades pass. Stone pushes stone, relinquish control. Life he lived means nothing if no one remains. Guess his reward is purpose hands on the stone.