Shell of It All

We were to purge
But you were
Way ahead
Of me

A room with its
Narcotic art
Had already
Been emptied

I was too late
To go

Where the wild
Doses grow



A wander
A desert
A lightless sky
A blackened kind
Of night a crime
For void to shine

Glittery grey grains
In wind to wind
Up dunes so fine
Sandstorms to blot
The suns and blind

Million million summers
Verdant vermillion
Visions familiar
A spiriter smother
Intyranny covered
Mysterious phaser

A dithering withering
Force of nature
Campy grindhouse
Abstract creature
Shimmering beat
Of wilderness
On outskirts fierce

Million million


Forever Seam

Forever Seam

This is the end.
That place you thought you’d never be.
Yes, this is that abyssal void.
A system of anarchy.
Where the ruler weaves the seams,
And you are lost to time.

No one knows about this time,
This place, this space, this end
Of the borderlands where you seem
To be where gravity can’t be.
Floating up in the anarchy,
Kissing the emptiness of that void.

This void,
Everyone knows that once is their time.
All bracing against the anarchy
Of misery and insurmountable ends.
In this place no one wants to be
You’re now a stitch in the forever seam.

Where gravity is void, it seems
Lost as a concept to the airless void.
Gravity thought it could never be
Without itself. There is no time
To keep in this place of ends,
Where the only reign is of king anarchy.

The riot response of nothing, the anarchy
Remains plotting its chaotic seams;
Bringing about sense’s end.
In this airless, lifting void,
Pressure waves are absent, lost to time;
In the place that should not be.

Time’s anarchical scene ceases to be.
Void’s seams tear and repair the anarchy.
Be it this end’s last time,
Weaving with a needle its own scrap seams,
With an tensionless needle in the void,
At the place where things make ends

Meet, and spitfire sparks seem
To cast out the seams, to be void
Of the things which weave their ends.



It’s been so long since I had
Someone to whisper to
In the dark

I remember gifts I’d give, and receive
The words I could never quite
Make out

Now there’s just the music
Trying to fill that

All that’s left behind
Of the world
That I helped build

Oh this magnetic tape
Machine won’t
Help me escape

It won’t let me find a hole
Of which
To crawl through

Not like the empty void
Who got away from
This dark place

Not like the empty void
Who now tries its best
About this place to avoid

Carbon Gas

Carbon Gas

The last of the light peeks through thundering clouds
Standing in the rays, is our hero Abbadon
Swirling around him, the smoke creeps closer
Lightning charges ions and fuels electric fog

His eyes flickered all colors known to man
Looking at the dancing dust in fading light
Abbadon stared at the sun about to disappear
At once he understood, and accepted this fate

As the rain floated towards him, and the light at last departed
His eyes reflected mist, the debris of calamity coming for him
Abaddon knew that what came next wouldn’t be easy to do
Abaddon would have to come to terms with a legendary death

Grave words spoken by twisted clouds sounded the time
Clocks struck midnight and the wind grew stronger
Abaddon hoped that life would last just a bit longer
The angel of death had wished for an end to be his own

Vaporize the oxygen and boil all the carbon
Tear through the dust and flay forth irrevocable burns
Sharp gas scorches and smolders out all life
Pulverizes the peace with a five-ton sledgehammer

Blind, our hero stumbles, eyes searing with heat
Abaddon keeps watching the void closing in
Air currents blacken with the hate of mother nature
He stands his ground, yet he has no future

The earth sings with whispering of embers
Orange rain floats in sync with the whipping of wind
Ingited auroras revolve around the point light last saw
Standing there still was Abaddon, grappling existence