I wear the crown of razor-thorns above tangled, twitching cables Protruding from a bloodstained mouth wide in soundless agony I, wreathed in tortured wires in the displaced gulf Scorched hand gnarled around spheres of collapsing time Pitiable fragments of war-ravaged cities creep behind horizons Clawing through the toxic fumes and pits of atrophied hope Humanity flees into sewers infested with seething terrors Poisoned herds digested by an aeon of stagnation
I see nothing but the vastness of the envenomed stars I scream towards The transitional suns in a dilating reality I've seen everything but the vacuum of infinity I'm the one who trampled glass into God's grave of filth
Beneath the crumbling relics of the machinated empire The unsullied throne becomes the pestilential tomb Voices without mouths shriek words without expression Minds without matter writhe in formless, wretched hunger
We are the life after death We are the nightmare suspension We are the cultivated hell around the transforming relic The AXIS OF PERDITION
It's post-human stellar beauty of the coldest sphere It's the entrancing glare of an imploding world It's black hole noise, whispers of singularity Subsonic star-choir on the astral frequency It's the volatile retort of the chaos contortion It's the nightmare desynchrony of the dying god It's realities torn away in planetary rape It's the gift of unspoken cycles