1. |
Tongues of Dust
05:51
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entomb, i am trapped
my revival, in equilibrium
footprints mark my path
a guide to me but not my way
i scour over
internal signs of divergence
from what has bound me to the side of one
unmoving as if in stasis
i've remained throughout my constant fear
i've given to you all my priceless intertwinement and hours
i've believed when all I faced was lies
years have passed but I refuse to grow blind with time
churn, a cauldron under burning fuel
a new flame ignites just as one is extinguished
blackened from the soot and tainted in function
coal fuses into my words
retaliation is inherent
when my defense
is but reduced
to lifeless dust
And all my trust
never to prove
it's lasting use
the sewer of veins
boil and stain
my only use
to create and unloose
a purpose of pain
the view of my roots
evolve, i am trapped
my reprisal, an equilibrium
between planes of time
a guide to me but not my way
i rationalize
there is a path to salvage but
danger inspires the worst persona to the surface
desires of grandeur
lead to selfish dispositions
crawling away from the root truths
defining our stance
distance brought unto us
the splitting of a wilted yew
this antiquated battle shall not be won
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2. |
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float, bubbling unto the surface
evolve, motion untethered is centered within
earth so vile, i am my own pyre
the venom in my tongue
confesses the patterns it holds
with blood and bile, my mission to defile
spitting the curses to mold
a defense for miles
unfounded and unbridled
the womb of ire
blur
coalesce in fear
i've deceived without meaning
the tides of doubt at blame
i've decided an excuse was clear
enthralled
with severance and the premise
that the entrance to the inner vault is sealed
a passage bright
but unknown to the mind
candles show reflection of a flicker
a seething prize
reverie in solace
construed itself into an ego
a kind of victim wrought with self demise
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3. |
Monarda
04:26
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bloom or burn, who decides the serpent's course?
prove to me, i am no waste
hearken to this orchard before you
the world slaves chose their bonds before
all i seek is enough to provide you
with all i am
my remaining strength will force
the walls to crumble
scattering the fragments of my
"soul" to all
sitting in wait to outstretch their hand
for pride
baffled with conception left behind
the price of existence inclined
with a buried head or fists in your eyes
common visions, like conduit that leads
into the center
diverging from me following with them is promised an uneasy home
i will waste you before you force my hand
pride behind inclined eyes leads me home
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4. |
Ossuary of Calice
05:29
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stains on the fabrics
time interweaving
blurring our paths
obvious is the present
ominous, the future bends
obelisk, grasping the clouds
building this monumental fantasy
uncontrolled amounts
wings melt in the sun
the monument has built itself
a lapse in judgement could mean the end
a null and blind prophecy
they all will sing with fervor for me
no guide to follow, a burden
when every single word
falls under a scrutiny
any one of which can bring to ruin
a tower of work so spotless in construct
helpless and adrift in a sea of fabrication
we have no control for who
we hold ourselves to standard
for we are this construct
obvious is unpresent
ominous, all perspectives bend
obelisk, reaching or rubble
this monumental fantasy
has never built itself
wings melt in the sun
but only if it is reached
a lapse in judgement seems my only feat
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5. |
Bicephalic
04:38
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wandering is effortless
a fresh interloper always on queue
follow in litany without discretion
and see what becomes of
your mission for freedom
absent and unwavering you stand opposed
when it is union you preach
do you expect me to lock my fingers and suffer silently?
before i take a step
transparency
understand my reluctance
actions can expunge empathy
but prowess cannot be denied
the infernal coil of this process is where we belong
i am unpresent
this feeds my petty frailty
a fault in need of repair
seemingly you see in me the same
a reason for defeat
on me rests your rightful blame
why repudiate mine?
trenches and machines, for beginnings not ends
ghosts of our movements still hang over head
history repeats itself but never unchanged
from birth to dust all you can trust is the canopy you made
we must never hold in silence
our woes or joys
a micro-analytic look at yourself
shows a common pattern with no inbetween
hand in hand our power awoke
battered by a changing world we spoke
our truths
our youth has only provided time
to form an understanding
of what's left behind
see this through
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6. |
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ache from stagnation
septic mindset
a contusion of ego
conjoined by a silent knowledge
a final recognition of self
captivating worth over deprecation
struggle for proof
ears and eyes
solace and madness it seems
leads me astray
from the purpose
I once set for myself
honor is never easy to maintain
where there's a gap
attention appears to flock
rabid without any use
this kennel is a planet
but the ecosystem and its contents
misalign in place
ache from stagnation
septic mindset
dispising oneself
over silent knowledge
recognition of a melting exile
dripping with mistakes
but ever to continue
directionless in advancement
towards a contusion of ego
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7. |
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i find a sense of contrivity
in what follows the storm
the wind that swept my feathers
was but calligraphy untrue
i am a moth to you
i rationalize
there is a path to salvage but
danger inspires the worst persona
to the surface
over and under the archways
vines entangle the stonework
the passing of time encourages growth
why stray from nature?
when the source of pestilence is inside yourself
let your architecture be encased with life
experience so wise
a simple moth can grow
when nothing left aside
can devour from inside
the severance sublime
was the only loss of mine
cries to the deaf
shower all with uncertainty
always untainted the freedom of autonomy
a window to every life
through which we see ourselves
comparison to world
is pain in high fidelity
compromised position on morality
spread with no more acuity
than a common stone
unveils the stale persona
an effigy of one
do not be the one
i find a sense of sickness
in what follows the storm
the wind that swept my feathers
was but calligraphy untrue
never to be a moth to you
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8. |
Sea of Fabrication
06:00
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these untethered
words i leave you with
will never be the last
i am no longer trapped
by internal signs of divergence
with my roots exposed
my purpose still clear
candles now reflecting
the entrance to the inner vault
expunged
inclination of pride while swallowed by
the price of existence in another's hands
while a lapse in
judgement still means the end
i control a sea of fabrication
this my final step
transparency
i have given everything i have
to pursuits in independence
i have no claim to prowess but
beneath this canopy is where we belong
history is made with delicate aggression
follow your own inhibitions
for a final recognition of self
captivate your worth over depreciation
mistakes seep through our plaster
but in stagnation
ever aches our will to strive for growth
stretching towards the sky
these untethered
words I leave you with
will never be the last
we are no longer trapped
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PALE NOISE MEDIA Minneapolis, Minnesota
PALE NOISE exists as a consolidation of the creative output between composers Matt Wees and Andy Meyer.
Forming their initial phases of collaboration in 2014, PALE NOISE now consists of a growing number of artist titles and catalogue releases
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