Pulsing Tomb from Repulsive Summoning by Xaoc

Frantic thoughts like moths swarm the aperture
Starving for light, terrified to be still

Flies like thoughts swarm the carcass
Of the latest great holy wanderer

Splayed out, face down inside his room
Paralyzed in rapture in a circle drawn in salt
On a bloodstained floor

The closer I look, the more that I find
A disciplined mind devolves into complete, unbearable silence
Within which I am become the king of infinite space
With nowhere left to turn

Desperate for the chaos of rabid dreams
Everything is frozen in place
I myself contract to a single point

I shouldn't have turned to look at the center
To see it is to collapse into the void

• Black Metal
• Death Metal
• Grindcore
• Metal
• Virginia