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OMICHRON LYRICS

Opus of the Wretched

"Opus of the Wretched" (2005 EP)

1. Miasma
2. Cracking Stone Monoliths
3. Disclarity
4. In the Icons Reflection
5. Ravenous Matrix Aperature
6. Through the Lexicon Eye
7. Opus of the Wretched







1. Miasma




2. Cracking Stone Monoliths

Statuettes made in shear revelation, But shadows, only shadows, to the true form. Stone clad with silver, and bronze armaments. Brazen and proud to have become as such. No qualms between latent desires and thoughts. Simplicity had brought it’s grandeur. Never to repair or replace, built with proficiency. Watching eyes of mine…how loathing the sights.

Split gold nails adorned into what could not be flesh. The lack of preceding realistic thoughts brought nothing. The ends to these means were only insuring their termination. Feeding the cathardic insights held within it’s grace.

Cracking Stone Monoliths

If only to create some minor flaw at which to chip, To deplete the superiority that lie dormant within. You all knew the creation bore unearthly perfection, Now you strive to find it’s one simple weakness… Hardly appropriate actions to bestow now.

Incapable and afraid that the downfall would bring no respite. That weakness lies not in any vision, for it was diluted. Submerged in a vast placid pool of utter contempt. …Wrought blackened metal forged into being. Shaped by fire, using blood to cool flames. Weapon to be wielded by those intended to rule. Held by pale white fingers, lacking in discipline.

No remorse for the carapace that falls. Victimized by rebuking the might that they saw. Reverence and awe should have been inspired. Trecherous forms all wither and expire…as…

Statuettes made in shear revelation, but shadows, only shadows, to the true form. Stone clad with silver, and bronze armaments. Brazen and proud to have become as such. No qualms between latent desires and thoughts. Simplicity had brought it’s grandeur. Never to repair or replace, built with proficiency. Watching eyes of mine…how loathing the sights.

If only to create some minor flaw at which to chip, To deplete the superiority that lie dormant within. You all knew the creation bore unearthly perfection.




3. Disclarity




4. In the Icons Reflection

The mask had twisted into a surface of water. The lights had aligned to create a flow of pure azure. Which warmed against my skin, born again, the wind guided. How none should have derived this, and seen the face unveiled.

I heard the sounds of the obvious screams as I walked through the gardened paths into the overlapping currents. I heard the sound of the people that knew of the lights. The melancholic cadence seemed to wash over quickly.

But still even in those vestal eyes the wild soul still bled with fire. The cold stones that so encompassed the icon…the release. There were so many left to remove, but the path was so jagged. I could not move either direction without falling into the exits beyond.

In the Icon's Reflection

Under crimson lights, the night wore away my reflection as the tapestries obscured. It’s eyes were turned toward me, but I did not notice that as I faltered, I screamed, I did not whisper. Shadows were not conspiring to breathe. Your vows are vacant, and ornament, falderal. Deep was the mark the icon brought to me. How could I have seen the exits beyond.

Darkness flew with twilight eyes into my hands, bringing the silent hopes that could always be found elsewhere. But they were not shimmering lights that I had beheld…there were scarlet droplets which poured endlessly from myself.

I could not feel the icons’ touch through the mirror the name was even becoming blurred as the glass began to fog. The silver back had rusted while I waited for the mirror to shift. I could not quell the essence, so I subdued the being and crumbled…

Here…here…here…here…
And…and…and…and…
Died…died…died…died…

Darkness flew with twilight eyes into my hands bringing the silent hopes.

In the Icon's Reflection

But still even in those vestal eyes, the wild soul still bled with fire. The cold stones that so encompassed the icon…the release. There were so many to remove, but the path was so jagged. I could not move either direction without falling into the exits beyond.




5. Ravenous Matrix Aperature

Here…
Fearing…
These…
Black twisted patterns of grimly lit twilight messiahs. Focal point in constant pivotal motion; creation of displacement. Within the array to disallow constant molecular build. Hindering formation of decipherable corporeal based material.

Slowly opened corridors of illusionary terrain painted in monochrome to aid in the self-delusion of peripheral. With disclarity becoming induced by shifting spiral doorways, with the citadel ascending over the hierarchial based manufactured dreams. To orbit in repetious cyclic motion, and bound within, the monotonous flow to view without impunity, the proletariarts below. To distribute absolution of infinance and existential control within the self-perpetuating autocratic build of evolutionary design. Thought by the subservients to be an ineffectual ideology, but in retrospect the manifested form seemed much more idealistic…with unrelenting vehemence, with which to control dissonant, and otherwise eratic acts of blindly forged imbecility…inside.

This being the ultimate undoing of the base primordial web. Created slowly through a lapse of time, but in asymetric design.

Disallowing for properly proportioned hindering to be placed in alignment with the more firmly bound reticulation to hold. The end result being the declination of the whole as the ravenous void swallows the debris of the quickly fading being. Letting slip the poorly constructed pieces through a massive aperature.

Through which the hierarchial citadel need never fear as it had ascended to biplanar consciousness.

Matrix…Matrix…Matrix…Matrix…

Tears of silver haze were dreadfully falling through my hands. Scarlet bracelets bound your wrists with dangling crimson threads. See my seasonal echoes in demise. Don’t just call a name…call mine. Don’t just call in vain…be wise. Would you be able to…see my seasonal echoes in demise?

Held within silence. Looking beyond my own reflection. You’re eyes are my mirror. Lost on a path of misdirection. Haunted by this night. I have lost sight of my intentions. No sun is rising. I hide obscured behind my screams.

The crumbling flesh which fluttered away as burned debris in the wind slowly nearing the central force to leave the whole destitute. Across the blackened pathway of decaying autumnal leaves, the haze so bitterly consumed my eyes in horrific assault. The onset so sudden and unwelcome as to inspire the fierce lamentation mingled with the sky. The last promise of desensitization came at the cost of the mortal coil, that now shattered the crimson strands.

Drained of all life…all I feel anymore is… Synchronized pivoting needles Synchronized pivoting needles Synchronized pivoting needles Synchronized pivoting needles




6. Through the Lexicon Eye

Something here has gone terribly wrong (eve of darkness) Nothing here is as it once was (eve unveiled) Outstretched fingers try to reach the sun (eve of midnight) Their lamentations fade out when their done (eve of lost trails) Isolation takes hold, (eve of visions) My world breaks (eve of didsain) Emptiness has taken (eve of discomfort) All my strength…away… (eve of more…pain…) But you enlightened me…you enlighten me… You…enlightened me before… The dominion called, orbiting into celestial balance. Existence…alive. Hindering the rebellious vortex, however disrupted. Behold the cycles of defiance. Decry your meager fears, be silent. Take hold of the internal cycles. Before the spirals reverse in dissent. Watchful eyes loom…tainted eyes removed. The bane of time moves us through the stages of dislocation. Strange cold iron chains ripping through, Dismoulding the whole structure. Dismantling the base, unstructuring the inevitable collapse. The eve, the twilight, the ethereal courtyard in reverence. Winds of the aurora consuming earthen tomb. Advance unto the citadel above the northern bounds. Entrance obfuscates. Unseen…unheard…way of lost.

Era and eon tainted with rebellions, what cause? Great wall of crumbling iron, force not advancing. Unheard the clamour, banner of ragnarok, open the ways. Response to the mighty progenies embrace on enlightenment.

The dominion called, orbiting into celestial balance. Existence…alive. Hindering the rebellious vortex, however disrupted. Behold the cycles of defiance. Decry your meager fears, be silent. Take hold of the internal cycles. Before the spirals reverse in dissent. Watchful eyes loom…tainted eyes removed. The bane of time moves us through the stages of dislocation… Forged…enraged…in pain…with you.

Might beknown when alas the final word is spoken. Internal coil shifted. Disdraught…the need to react. Innevitable…concluded breath that dissipates, so unheard. Focal point of mentality turning towards the base of reality. Disheveled sphere.

Through the Lexicon Eye …Icon choking to death.

Planar structure unraveled. Void crashing into magic hymn. Hated the sounds, unknown the vibrations of it’s utterence. The eyes beheld, in such majesty, the infamous resurrection. Astral bridge of the ancients, gateway to remove the spirited flesh. Gathered into essence, manifested lifeform beknown as I. Unraveling into dissonance and twising into the fire, unwhole. Deriving conscious thought, dividing concience lost. Overiding…mind consumed with futility. Dreaded weapon of intensifying retort.

Through the lexicon Eye - Icon choking
Through the lexicon Eye - Icon choking to death.


Through the lexicon eye.




7. Opus of the Wretched

 


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