THE ROSE OF THIS WORLD
THE ROSE OF THIS WORLD
THE ROSE OF THIS WORLD…
IS ITS THORNS…
IT’S SKY,
BANNERS RAGGED AND TORN.
ABOVE, THE SLATE GREY OF THE TOMB.
BELOW, THE RECEIVING BLACK OF THE WOMB.
FROM STAR LIGHT,
TO BLANK NIGHT…
WE DRIFT IN DREAMS.
FROM STAR LIGHT,
TO BLANK NIGHT…
WE DRIFT IN DREAMS,
WE DRIFT IN NULLITY…
THE ROSE OF THIS WORLD,
IS ITS THORNS,
THE THORNS OF THIS WORLD
ARE ITS ROSE.
FROM NOTHING
HENSE NOTHING.
NO WILL TO DEPOSE.
FROM BIRTH RITE
TO FINAL NIGHT
OUR FATE IS SEALED AND CLOSED.
LIKE THE WINGED BIRD IN FLIGHT,
OUR PREDICTIONS FALL.
BLIND OMISSIONS ALL…
STAGGER, EYES BURNED BY THE SUN.
THE VIOLENCE OF EVENTIDE,
ALL BUT BEGUN
THE SKY RED WITH HOPES
MYARTERED AND ROPED
TO A STONE GOD OF WATER,
A LAMB HUED BY SLAUGHTER.
HERE-IN GROWS,
THE PAIN OF THIS WORLD AND ITS ROSE…
(THE SWEETEST ROSE, NEAR THE SHARPEST THORN GROWS…)
Beautiful shafts of light refracted through the ominous haze of the anthropocene. Even in its bleakest moments, a fire runs through this album that makes you want to keep up the fight - come what may. LUX INTERNA