Behold... a trip into the cosmos.
Lyrics
The diagnosis, psychosis: divided focus
No vibrant locus that I could notice, instead
a silent opus, my head, pry it open and dread
the flying locusts, like an omen an ocean of stress
I was hopeless, just a piece of nature, a freezing glacier
Melting, breathing labored, helpless, time is broken
the lenses scrambled, the mirror a clearer vision
Into the outer world the fear persisted, a mere contingent
Resistance, if its not reality than expedite it
My head in violent revolt a deadly virus exposed
Lightning bolts, inviting ghosts, reciting prose
Questions from poets neglecting their souls
Rejecting accepted norms, conform to the Novus
Ordo Seclorum, the horror, swords in the solstice
Reordered we border the source of notions of war
Shaking and sweating repenting, atrocious reports...
Behold the Pale Horse, the soul inside of me
Behold the Pale Horse, control reality
Prediction depicted: Is this a different dimension?
If God's omniscient why didn't he mention this?
Conditions constricted, efficient decisions amiss
On my knees, as if to pray, the wicked persists
A missing place, a quick delay, a swift decay
The need to feel the freedom, to innervate
or stimulate my sicker fate, as if peace is a vicious space
in time, but the clock was twisted veins
a flock of misery inflicting pain within me, is this the way?
I wished to speak, gossip at least, honest belief
Before this life was not a problem for me
The forces of promise from gospels to Greece
from Socrates to Aristotle I grieve
The nature of the virtuous, platonic philosophies
Hippocrates, the father of my disease
The modern means to the end of this shadow
The pale horse: slip my neck in this lasso
Behold the Pale Horse, the soul inside of me
Behold the Pale Horse, control reality
Descending from Heaven, mending the real
My brethren of temperance, reliance, the over soul
Rhyming with no control, stepping on steel
Iron and gold, setting fire to souls, Pirates with flow
Fluid the Goddess of Music pretending to feel
The siren's revolt, the styles of old lives in the know
Knowledge applied to the whole, partly divided
Harpies to fly with, in these darkening skies
Crimson in fragments again, sitting in tragic suspense
The images shattered and then, I'm lifted to witness
The fabrics relent, give way to this reality
Was this just a trip into a different galaxy?
I answered some questions, the mind is a cosmos
Divine and sometimes you will not know
It takes you into corners where you question the truth
The wings of the Pale Horse with my neck in its noose
Behold the Pale Horse, the soul inside of me
Behold the Pale Horse, control reality