FUNERAL LYRICS

1. Burning With Regret

So, it has come to this.
All but solitude in
Explicit detail
Have folded and left me.

Hopelessness grins and feeds with mirth
My philosophies of death:
The nihilistic seal in which I once sought reason,
And spites with black, sarcastic tortures.

So alas the sleeper dies,
In all devouring darkness consumed
Where tears are blood from the soul.

Facing mortality
With trembling fingers
As ever failing swords.
In truth and essence
Old beliefs are like a splintered shield

Dying twixt the mills of God,
Grinding bones to flower.
The song makes bitter dances
When crushed beneath that tower.

Be still my bleeding heart...
Alas all love is dead.
Monumental in its overwhelming silence.
Flooding with hurt,
Burning with regret

2. Hate

OK, how i hate you
For making me want you so.
How I hate myself
For being so weak.

How I hate your tempting glances
.. or worse yet; your ignorance.
How I hale my effort

How i hate what you bring out in me,
And your effortless magnetism.
How i hate the things i do for you
To wake your desire.

How i hate the all devouring
Solitude that your smile transposes.
How i hate the fact
You could have whom ever you want.
How I hate the way
You make me wish i was among those.

How i hate your exquisite taste,
Your sleekness and grace.
How I hate my lack thereof,
And the longing to match you.

How I hate you stir in me.
I'd die for you, you know.
How I hate the irony.
Insane that this is love.

3. Break Me

Tis Blood thou seeketh?
Thou canst hurt me if thou want it.
Burn and break me,
Run your nails clean through me,
For not even the pity of vultures am i worthy.

White skin stings the eyes,
But the soft, red, brush loves soothing ache.
With cold, steel, serrated lips
I kiss myself... So hard.
In long arching motions.

And the picture painted is one of death.
Skin-like canvas
Yearns and. beckons
Screaming for repentance.

The feeling when flesh parts.
Gaping wounds speaking its beauty in riddles,
A mute crescendo of spewing blood.
Unveiling the- true self,
Streaming from the heart.

Drenched in surreal pain,
And dancing in a liquid veil,
A constant spray of fading life.

Led by angels dressed as demons.
Sweet are their arms to die in.
But they carry thorns
Thorns that rapture and release.

Behold my art,
The flesh takes form
With killing detail
And suicidal precision.

4. Song Of The Knell

World of pain,
Aflame with sadness.
Shrouded with ails
Unspeakable 'lest my mouth spills.

The beckoning of flowers bent
With the weight of sorrow.
Of stones with names
1 never knew, yet feel..
I dance with them
And hear their soft whisp

Cursed be thy name and all thine deeds.
Oh how we yearn for the life you seek to spill.
Thou art truly black,
And the dead writhe
'neath the earth on which you trod.

No throne is mine among the Dead.
With shame entombed in restless graves.
A tearless sermon, and
Their silent tongues fell limp.

But mute curses sting deep.
... deep into the soil,
And travels yon the gates
Where they may linger
Like unwanted children.
Growing as tumours
In wombs of stone
Under weeping willows.

No peace then in death
Or life alike.
So be it...
But all are dead,
And only the knell sings.
Hymns of grief
Resounding in ancient churchyards.

Sweet is that serenade
To eyes in bloom with sadness.

5. From The Orchestral Grave

I stand an actor
Staged amidst graves and memories,
Playing the part of failure.
A flawless performance.
Beyond reproach and without blemish.
A role so second skin tailored
It tickled my palette
When still the honey womb
Coursed through me.

Aimlessly directed
By feverish, desperate gods.
Insane like rabid hounds.

... And the play
Through which i stagger
Has a Greek tragedy’s bitter end
Bond side to every act.
A death in every scene.

Heart of Kin bleeds hard,
Showering red disapproval
Across my lifeless stage.

Audience of such ill manner
Easily tint my grand finale
With bold disgrace
And blunt remarks.

But i play my heart unhindered..
Spite all earths' scorn
An icon of stoicism
And confidence.

Wallowing blind, mute
And ever so spellbound
In the riddling pulses
Spewing forth
From the orchestral grave.

So then..
Here we dance.
A miserable ensemble
Pretending to matter
In our respective worlds.

My sweet beloved...
Reality is sadly So very relative
Much like truth,
A matter of perception
And quite subjective.

Do not for the world
Let go now.

Oh heart kissed one.
Childlike preserver
I’ll wither
And be no more
If your hand doubts
The warmth it protects.

I hat which reignites
All my acres
Of yesterdays dead flowers.

No play nor act
Would then besiege me,
Never could i fail
In your burning light.

6. Making The World My Tomb

Uniting with the soil
Clasping the earth and its endless mould.
Preserving its soft mire
Underneath heavy lids.

Tired by the weight, of the world,
Blinded by its cruelty,
A pain so superfluously vivid,
Yet in its realization
I find peace.

... And linger in my tomb
Where none holds sway
But the ones that feed,
With much excitement.

My glistening children,
Frantic with gluttony.
With them I’ll soon have wings,
And together we will grow
Out of the earth,
Lowering up like an angel of death
Cadaveric and reeking
In alt its putrescent glory.

And with the hot summer's night
Thus i swarm towards the sky.
Drifting in the moist breeze,
Sweeping the earth
Like autumn leaves.

A black horde carries my name,
Nourishing on death
And drinking decease.
But before long
The coup will he of life's irony.

Suffering a thousand deaths anew.
I’ll be raining silent and cold
Out of the heavens,
Making the world ray grave.

Aeons have passed
The cycle remains eternal.

Kills me harder,
Hurts me longer
Than death ever could.

7. Will You Have Me?

Cast your charms,
And work past my
Massive hatred.
Might let my peels shed
If you'll drink
From my wounds.

Just might prove something not easily forgotten,
'tis what I feel when I am strong.
Shining with death's beauty
Like a radiating black star.

Adorned inside
rest well, meet my shame
for it's like morbid beauty
reveal for the black star.
an increase until nature
and will to re-start.

But those moments
Are aeons apart,
If not but wishful dreams,

I soon awake to blood throbbing
In my ears like a horror scene,
Like salt in my wounds
A reminder:
I still live.

That cursed fluid.
Mocking me with its presence.
Preserving a state of being
I know not how to appreciate.
One dull thump after another,
Each a step closer
To that embrace I long for.

But time is of the essence,
And I have no patience
To endure this
Day by day purgatory.

Kiss me now
And free me.
Bruise me with the depth
Of your innermost passions.
I can take it all
Anti Will eagerly drink
From your poison chalice,

Dagger me with immoral,
And boldly steal my
That last peace of
Humanity left,
As insignificant
As the value we so
Willingly attribute
Life.

There are roses within,
Which, beauty steals breath,
And whose petals yearn for
A simple tenderness to release
Its fathomless warmth.
If not but for a single curious touch.

Instead I burn inside
With warmth never shared,
Anti love that may never be.







FUNERAL LYRICS