Kriegsmaschine - The Other Death
Kriegsmaschine - Apocalypticists - 2018.
My prophecy is a nightmare
My path is a like a hedge of thorns
On to the burning wastes
On to the great rift
To harvest the bitter fruit and drink from the barren springs
My land is roamed by worms
My teeth is gnashing
A shrine of flesh that had risen
A mind that sparked above the stars
Scorched in the consuming fire in the forges of the nether god.
Towards the noumenon.
Deprived of both a body and the mind that animates it, the soul is petrified in a monstrous satori. It is hermeticism of the abyss that has trampled it into a blunt instrument of enlightenment.
Towards the noumenon
Towards apocalypse
A lifetime of unquenchable thirst and ravenous hunger has carved out an devouring automata. Destroyed by the bitterness of its grievous and long-protracted punishment.
My cup runneth dry
My house is divided
On to the burning wastes
On to the great rift
A vast network of fractures
The forecourts of Sheol
The night is as a garment
The face has been obscured
Apex prelest
Conscious nothing
Axis damni
Embers of pneuma
Disunity
Estrangement
The cruelty of the other death