1. |
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You will never know the meaning of your struggle,
Nor will you see the shackles of destiny.
You will never hear the malignant state of your being
Hysterically stripping off your forms down to the marrow.
You will never know why you have been carved in damnation,
Nor will you ever taste the promises of delirium.
Obscuring the strangled laments beyond the absolute crest of perdition.
Surrender your knees as the ground crumbles,
For what has been given shall be taken away.
The last hour of this deafened world echoes.
Witness the crowning splendor in the eyes of your lineage
Glistening through the sacrificial tempest of woe.
Singing the ultimate praises before lurking back to the vault.
The final discourse to a soon-to-be-forgotten audience
Will howl beyond the columns of raptured corpses.
Engulfed by a crimson sea of scorching waste
Coiling the fragments inside the open tomes of despair.
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2. |
Mors Omnibus Lucet
05:19
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The sense of everlastingness is achieved in a moment when the eyes are shut.
Yet clenching the wolf's teeth won't deliver from peril.
Just as deliverance cannot ensue from a desolate and callous occurrence.
Every movement resembles gradually a tenuous chore for those still bereft of sleep.
The most inexorable paradox cannot obnubilate enough the void of deception.
Inasmuch as certainty eludes us, there's grace even in the nethermost suffering.
Its beauty lies in us, its beauty lies to us all.
In a world slain by fallacy, sympathizing with the executioner becomes a virtue for the castaway.
For eons, the portent of the last throe has warted the cores before our grand emergence.
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3. |
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Untimely burns always your flagrant flame
Demise - tormentor of my nights,
You tossed my shade against the falls
And much I have marveled sinking into your depths.
There are sufficient nails for each heart to stab
And enough rope for every throat to crush.
When truth's blaze inflicts the fever of countless suns
The nobler of all sentiments remains the loathing of oneself.
Falsehood is nothing but a mild pill to swallow.
Amidst every surge of a thousand dreams befalls a sanctuary of bones.
Declaring war on Neptune is no more far-fetched than the prospect
of appointing a scapegoat to endure the sins of others,
In hopes of attaining forgiveness and salvation.
There is no victory, but a desperate sense of heroism,
Collapsing into mercurial reflections of a decaying sanity.
Defiance becomes nought but a metonym for fear.
Sleep is the manifestation of our longing for death,
When life boils the cancer which imprisons the moment.
A senseless chase towards a beacon of ill-defined worth,
where delusion is hurled like crumbs to feed the endlessly famished laughter -
Endowed with admiration are the apostles of Santhara.
I wished the Sun away,
I wished for its demise.
I prayed for mist to lay, cleanse everything that lies.
On ground or high above, no sign of the wondrous dove.
There is, however, passionless draught and rain.
I feel as if each drop is smoldering my pain.
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4. |
Nulla Salus
07:14
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As if this world was brought forth only to be disposed of.
Surfacing through a bastion of exacerbated resentment
Leading us astray below the pedestals of misery
And above the apex of elation
In perpetuum turmoil subjugated by deceit.
It's the mutilated cry that has been buried in the Abyss.
The last word of this violent dispute only to be
Scattered and abandoned in the havoc of time.
Revelation resides in the simplicity of the unknown.
The open gates which no man can ever shut.
And the only choice to make is that of future regrets
Whilst silence keeps bearing all our crosses.
So be thankful, for illusion has veiled your madness
From the infandous works of eternal unjustness.
All those verdicts so highly venerated have served
As instruments for the necropsy of our desire.
Justifying the ghastly statues of fraud
Becomes an ovation to this rotten harlotry.
Chaining endlessly the sinister malady which
Has been carried by the will of existence
.
The undeniable tragedy of man
Is not worth more than a demented laughter
.
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5. |
Comedia Finita Est
03:08
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Gravatus Romania
Gravatus was brought forth in the late days of 2007 as a contrasting musical manifestation set initially to delve into the
most caliginous fringes of the human experience in relation to the nature of being. The reasoning behind the name, which stems from Latin -
translated as "sick" or "burdened", is to illustrate the symptomatological aspects of existence.
Contact: 624v47u5[at]gmail.com
... more
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