Ⓒ 2021 - Music by STARVING VAMPIRES
"The Will to Power", is a reflection on the world we've built for ourselves. When all that matters is power over other human beings, and wealth allows us to ignore the consequences of our actions, what we build for ourselves is a Hell of insincerity.
The video concept is a telling of "The Will" by the face of power which is a mask floating in a space of dark urges and embers of hope and lust. Ever changing and adapting, each flash represents power reinventing itself in its pursuit for more.
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Find Starving Vampires on Soundcloud: / starving-vampires
Lyrics and narration by Leo M.J. Aurini, follow his work at www.staresattheworld.com
The Will to Power
Let me tell you about power.
Nothing else is so desperately sought,
Despite having no use whatsoever.
A great game of liars out lying one another.
Heuristic eating theory,
Only an infinite regress remains.
The wild beasts are beholden,
Survive, and perhaps you'll thrive.
Else - pain, pain, pain, and extinction!
No time for flattering lies.
Only man has evolved into his own creation.
A void of fractal cries.
All hail pain, the great leveler!
She comes for Emperors and beggars alike.
That mistress is capricious but even,
Only Man, with his divine reason,
Can twist such a pure being,
Hatefully punishing all dissent.
Such great wisdom in Man,
Mapping objects into his psyche.
Pain but a tool for ensuring compliance,
Hope and meaning offered on a license,
With technology we retreat inside of us,
And murder the world that be.
The purpose of our elegant speech,
Is not to communicate, but to control.
Soft rhetoric to undermine agency.
Only within the system is dialectic allowed.
Once the soulful spark has been extinguished.
Use it only to crush the crowd.
Do not ask the powerful for advice:
Telling others what they want to hear.
Is their only true, honest skill!
Encourage others on the road to ruin.
With suggestions that they don't need,
And White Lies that ultimately kill.
So - climb the tree to power,
By grasping those sweet, sweet lies.
And then drink the sap so sour-
Or hold fast to the truth,
And become an exile from your home.
Die ignobly, forgotten, and alone.
Nature was Man's accountant,
But now she serves as his muse.
The struggle for survival forgotten,
The will to power you can't refuse.
Until all the categories have shifted,
And all the lines have been blurred,
Man will continue making his own rules,
And thus the Devil is truly served.
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