Cold, Cruel. from Cold, Cruel. by Caged Bastard

Two dimensions bleed through the same invisible wound
One worships the lie of purity
the other burns with the hunger of those who crossed the threshold
Between them a watcher created from absence
Nothing moves, yet every illusion dissolves under the Black Light

The pulse becomes a ritual
Laughter rots into confession
the architecture of the self collapses under the weight of its own pretending
He observes the swarm imitating life
celebrating their decay as if it were destiny

Truth devours the mask that named itself truth
Courtesy melts into desperate theatre
Dignity is traded to the next false prophet
Still, he stands untouched
a shard of cold awareness reflecting nothing but corruption in motion

The world rotates around its axis of counterfeit meaning
Endless repetition, copies of failures repeating their genealogy
He tracks the spiral
finds no origin, only distance expanding until cruelty becomes a form of reason

Silence widens
In the gap, virtue evaporates like vapor fleeing the sun
Cold rises
not from air, but from the thought that still believes in innocence

Pressure crushes the scaffolding of meaning
Respect bows and splits like wet wood
Values shatter under their own self-worship
Observation sharpens, he wounds the world simply by refusing to belong to it

Desire gnaws at the borders of logic
Truth oxidizes, carving rust into bone
Stillness becomes a blade
The observer no longer merely watches
he measures
he weighs
he annihilates without speaking


Only breaths remain
The world reduced to pulse and pressure, a disciplined collapse
He sees beauty in dissolution, not hope
only the perfection of failures happening correctly
A tremor pulses beneath the void
the threshold where cruelty becomes clarity

Every virtue is camouflage
Every grin carries a lesion
He stands between both dimensions, unmoved, uncorrupted
Cruelty becomes the only honest language

Not cruelty of flesh or mind
but the cold erasure of illusion
It does not strike, nor seek to cause damage
it unmakes the self that clings to comfort

He becomes the void that witnesses unbound by mercy or malice
Not violent, but the quiet annihilation of delusion

He sees what is hidden behind thought and hears the echoes buried beneath silence
Time recoils around him, for he stands outside its pleading orbit

This cruelty has no hunger, no triumph, no blood, only clarity so severe
that all pretense collapses

Time stretches until the sound leaks
Every second thickens, every silence grinds deeper
The heart freezes into absolute observation

Cruelty doesn’t strike it beholds, and by beholding strips every mask from existence
Air clots. Thought calcifies
Awareness grows fangs

Movement spasms back into the corpse of the world
The dance resumes, modern, polished
still the same choreography of decay

Progress gleams like chrome over rust
rituals of renewal masking repetition
Voices chant of change
yet every step retraces the forgotten wound

Illusion paints itself as evolution
but the core remains static
The architecture of desire reshapes
not to grow
but to endure its own emptiness

The crowd exalts the new veneer
blind to the symmetry of collapse
Meaning drifts like ash over the surface
weightless, ungrasped

He watches as motion returns
without transformation
a convulsion mistaken for rebirth

This is not the violence of teeth and fist
but the cruelty of unveiling
to show the world that renewal
was only repetition refined

And so it ends
not in silence
but in the endless hum of awareness consuming itself
Cruelty and illumination merge
one frequency
one unending pulse
No redemption
No message
Only the gaze that remains
after everything else has collapsed.

• Metal
• black metal
• noise