Nyss - Know There Is Art in Death

I am the hammer of flesh
I am the anvil of death
I am Leviathan risen
Know there is art in death

I am the pillar of mercy
I am the pillar of severity
I am the world serpent
Know there is art in death

Spiral fractured bone
Coned out flesh and fat
Atomised arterial blood
Know there is art in death

Vaporised and skeletal
Monuments so exquisite
Forests of crucifixions
Know there is art in death

Hammers upon faces
Boots upon skulls
Crematoria run night and day
Know there is art in death

The sludge of purefaction
The scent of squalid death
The bloated vessels of memories fading
Know there is art in death

Fading! in Death!

The sludge of purefaction!
The scent of squalid death!
The bloated vessels of life
Know there is art in death

Mitred earth under blistered feet
My shins splinter through the deadened meat
Wild dogs in the distance - the sun has set twice
The world is dessicated, molded and rotting
We are bound and fettered to the iron of the Earth
We are nailed to the twisted tree
and the vines are growing in our veins!
The cold, crushing irony is that we exist!
Thrust jarringly upon the carcass
Yet we cling to what was foisted upon us
- jealously this yoke...
We bleed into the bowels - that drown our children!
We bleed from our empty veins!
Our hands in spasm, throttling our children that remain!

We bleed into the bowels...
We bleed from our empty veins...

We bleed into the bowels...
We bleed from our empty veins...


We bleed into the bowels...
We bleed from our empty veins...