Revelation from Apophallacy by Bleach For The Stars

The heart: an ashtray; rusting faith
The grind of pills resounding in the dark
Between sad galaxies and stained remarks.
A gash of air, a glimpse that starts to chafe
Where stones cry out for shadows, and the trees
Bray to the beat of blister and disease.
Remain disdainful, shoddy effigies.

The skin: tattooed with tension, burnished
Blind. Mindful of the ragged flame of time
The gutted, hollow gasp of the sublime.
A loose decay, cracked black traffic furnished
With fear, melodies of dust on desperate keys.
The slow, select despair as feelings freeze
Or drop uneasy warmth with equal ease.

The sun: a used coin stamped with shine,
Resigned to show a sprawl of sacred tears.
A dismal bliss devalues the divine
Water reverting softly back from wine.

• Dark Ambient
• Experimental
• Post-Industrial
• Harwich