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Veins As Poisoned Streams

by Spectral Tombs

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1.
Here I stand, weak boughs stretched wide over this darkened land, scorched dystopia. I speak the words of sadness, barely audible, a whispered hiss through rotted teeth. This dam is crumbling under oppressive, torrential weight of time. Breaking away to reveal the truth of the great void inside. These limbs are bent under the weight of years, painful to behold. In the floodplain of life substance is sought with none to find. Living is not mine, though I carry it's heft with bent and crooked spine. Veins are as poisoned streams seeping down into groundwater. All will waste away. All will waste away. Numbness is life, life is the void. This hollow heart lies cold and still. Rivers of poison flow through these veins and into all. Here is my baseless dystopia. Here is the truth of the void. Here is the dam crumbling. Here are the currents of time. Here are the limbs broken under the weight of years. Here is the world drowning in bitterness and tears. Here is the numbness consuming. Here is the madness abound. Here are the veins poisoned and drained into the ground. Sleep will not renew. Light will not reveal. Warmth will not suffice. No release at the knife. No warmth, no light, no death, no life. All is numb. No warmth, no light, no death, no life. All will waste away. Numbness is life. Life is the void. Cold is the heart. Veins are as streams of poison.
2.
Succumb 12:04
Close your eyes, taste cold upon your tongue. Exhale. Lie against the frozen earth, defeated, subdued. You have been born into the maelstrom, unfortunately conceived in these days of ignorance masqueraded as life. The future is written for you, inscribed beneath your skin. Your every choice betrays and confirms your need to feel the end. Succumb. Your need to feel the end. We are they without purpose, yet believe ourselves to be the heirs to higher meaning. We in truth remain nothing. Succumb. Remain nothing. Seven billion empty shells, parasites excreting fear and poison. Stand tall and breathe it in. Seven billion empty shells are all that can stop this now. This brooding degenerate psychosis must be put down. We are they without meaning, yet believe ourselves to be the heirs to brighter futures. In truth there's no hope here. Succumb. There's no hope here.
3.
You are the sad persistent progeny of your drooling forefathers, impregnated by witless gods. You've limped across the earth smearing everything in rank white shit. What is this pride? What is this arrogance? What is this history, this so called heritage? What can it mean to you, your myths of purity, your vapid lies? We are all bastards, vessels of filth and rancid blood running over. We all suckle from the same diseased teat, growing fat and sick. Growing pale and weak. Here's your heritage, an infection to drain. The white puss of the earth drowning everything. The summit of your bodies piled up into the sky should serve as a great vantage, a clear view of what your glorious past has done for the future of this world. The fields all slashed and burned. Supremacy unfurled. Fuck the world you've created. Supremacy unfurled.

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released September 12, 2012

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Spectral Tombs Portland, Oregon

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