abstrect-christ Posted March 24, 2011 Share Posted March 24, 2011 (edited) i)Cellar Door Drawing one after the other the things are never correct. A chalk outline born of life, its particles splitting on fold after fold; darkness takes up its transcendant flow, vision coming to that which is lost. Cadence to three sonic waves as three cellar ports open and close causing electrode wonderment as to where It indeed is. Ground giving way, a stringed creature awakens. It's wooden frame has yet to complete, yet it floats five feet above physical nature; no Master to monitor its automation. The Thing came with intent. Viscera eye towards its misgivings, it always said "fuck you" when told of a truth; "Your a Manequin," they would say. Last thing it terminized was a string around the neck, impaled, Things neck line could never fix itself. ii)Awareness of this Abyss A white figure in the distance seeming to be hollow, it could only make out It's running from blackness. Leopard and Lion! In experienced pursuit led by a white trail. Feeling around the terrain; dead trees, virul growth, crimson igneous was favorable for a good cause. Approaching, ammunition in hand, my black blood flowing out in plumes. A figure like me, hollow but of the second thickness, grey parted, stronger density then my own. Crimson rocks hiding my feral persuers wounds, this strange figure saved me from a maulistic death. "know who you are?" "no," we both could relate. Such Animals kept to the shadows, rustling forms made their presence known. iii)Followers Calling A tan figure, unconscious, unaware shaken to awakening. His reaction to both us and his environment Abberative. Telling of our story he took lead, navigative keenness, my body served a purpose, my white nature breaking through the stained rock. "What's your name?" His was Dante. Dante's stories of wonders many. Some of towers so high Olympus could scale its peaks, others of horrors our dark hunters would run from. His strategy to keep back the tide made of noise, the tools for such was plenty. Rotted sticks used as spears for when they got close. Gurgling screams! More confusion, survival was questioned; the sounds, horror like in nature coming and going from Dante. Spears blistered familiar colour from inside his torso. Suspended in air just above the corpse mesmerizing its figure, faulty yet mystic it spoke. "Of deciet and greed that man spoke, for I know the way out from this Infernal Valley," how could we not follow such as him? his gutteral voice sounded of such power we didn't have. Dismembered, Dante held back the tidal waves "with meat and bone to grind their gums they should be happy," the Thing had said. iv)Dawn To which we found the end, only the stringed one would know. Reaching the peak, light was setting, the landscape turning from obsidian invaders to a beautiful rosy mica that the Leopard and Lion ran from. We were free to roam in such a moment... v)Transformation/Realization Away from that barren location, gold streaks, silver lines, colours we could only imagine or be dreamt. Then Thunder. Sky above like our previous settings, blackouts could only be felt, alterations apparent after each; like our first light in the dark, obscure hands became fingers. Ionized electrons changed property. Chalk to elasticity, Lead and Wood of the same. Now living among reality, our variations are many but I can't help but think... would our Creator have allowed such transformation from Abstrect to Abstrect? Darwinian roots apparent, we think not. by Jeremy Swyck (11/05/08) Edited March 26, 2011 by abstrect-christ Quote Pinhead "Unbearable, isn't it? The suffering of strangers, the agony of friends. There is a secret song at the center of the world, Joey, and its sound is like razors through flesh." Joey "I don't believe you." Pinhead "Oh come, you can hear its faint echo right now. I'm here to turn up the volume. To press the stinking face of humanity into the dark blood of its own secret heart." "There's a starving beast inside my chestplaying with me until he's boredThen, slowly burying his tusks in my fleshcrawling his way out he rips open old woundsWhen I reach for the knife placed on the bedside tableits blade reflects my determined faceto plant it in my chestand carve a hole so deep it snaps my veinsHollow me out, I want to feel empty"-- "Being Able To Feel Nothing" by Oathbreakerhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aBPy3xNwwL8 "Sky turns to a deeper grey the sun fades by the moon hell's come from the distant hills tortures dreams of the doomed and they pray, yet they prey and they pray, still they prey"-- "Still They Prey" by Coughhttps://soundcloud.com/relapserecords/sets/cough-still-they-pray Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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