Cirrhosis / Atavist Arise

remove from me your love and fill your life with needless things forget about my fears and turn the clocks backward my days are growing long...too long holding back the tears, call the quarters out one by one self-medication has begun no relief, no retreat from hopelessness and grief call the quarters one by one, self medication has begun the voice of eastern wind speaks with seven silver tongues poisoning my mind looking to the north the earth is swallowing the sky weakening my being walking to the west i bleed a slowly flowing stream deadening my heart turning southward now staring through the flames blackening my soul voices like thunder come life is a symptom giving up, letting go, is the only way i know crashing on broken wings, what pleasure failure brings as my lips pass my final breath i think of you and welcome death and for the things i've left undone for the moon and for the sun light a fire on sea and sky and salt the earth where my body may lie

Submitted by SerpentEve — Apr 26, 2025

how the old souls wish to speak in ancient tongues some in snarls cries and whispers... do you remember the tribe in the trees? from the great spring of the spider king we rise from a primordial sea to ascend to a throne of smoke and steel... we stare through blank and blackened eyes and live so all others may die across an ocean of time of draught and of flood we live on the rush from a poppy's blood from worship of moon and sun to create the spear, the blade and gun upon my hands are wings to command these things what things what great deeds and things lie inside my veins am i so great only so great as these things that surround me remember the language so old it's ancient speak it, cry it out a tongue so old it touches, teaches, loves and hates and is the root of all that is forsaken i look out to see and call the strike to end it all our kingdom... torn down and rebuilt to nothing i hang my head as these walls of flame come crashing down the oceans swell and swallow all my scences too strong to stand i see pain, hear cries, and clutch the barren sand the foul stench and bitter taste are the last memories of our doomed race

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Apr 26, 2025