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1. |
Inner Sanctum
07:01
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François Bilodeau
This portrait of mine
Is a mere sculpture
Of the man I used to be
Hollow and bitter
Grotesque imagery
Grandeur that will never come
Reminiscent memories
A sombre dance to comfort my wrath
I'll never let you go...
I'll never let you die...
Rise and feel
Embrace of the universe
Traveling through my inner sanctum
I've reached every single corner
Of my dying fate and rising misery
One step further and the light is mine
Bury the flesh and weaknesses
Gather the hate, strengthen the passion
Mourn in silence, burn the urn
Forever dying, a destiny to a bitter end
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2. |
Darkness, pt. 1
12:29
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Lord Byron
I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;
Morn came, and went and came, and brought no day,
And men forgot their passions in the dread
Of this desolation; and all hearts
Were chill'd into a selfish prayer for light:
And they did live by watchfires - and the thrones,
The palaces of crowned kings, the huts,
The habitations of all things which dwell,
Were burnt for beacons; cities were consumed,
And men were gathered round their blazing homes
To look once more into each other's face;
Happy were those who dwelt within the eye
Of the volcanos, and their mountain-torch:
A fearful hope was all the world contain'd;
Forest were set on fire but hour by hour
They fell and faded and the crackling trunks
Extinguish'd with a crash and all was black.
The brows of men by the despairing light
Wore an unearthly aspect, as by fits
The flashes fell upon them; some lay down
And hid their eyes and wept; and some did rest
Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smiled;
And others hurried to and fro, and fed
Their funeral piles with fuel, and looked up
With mad disquietude on the dull sky,
The pall of a past world; and then again
With curses cast them down upon the dust,
And gnash'd their teeth and howl'd: the wild birds shriek'd,
And, terrified, did flutter on the ground,
And flap their useless wings; the wildest brutes
Came tame and tremolous; and vipers crawl'd
And twined themselves among the multitude,
Hissing, but stingless, they were slain for food
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3. |
Darkness, pt. 2
14:12
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Lord Byron
And War, which for a moment was no more,
Did glut himself again; a meal was bought
With blood, and each sate sullenly apart
Gorging himself in gloom: no love was left;
All earth was but one thought and that was death,
Immediate and inglorious; and the pang
Of famine fed upon all entrails men
Died, and their bones were tombless as their flesh;
The meagre by the meagre were devoured,
Even dogs assail'd their masters, all save one,
And he was faithful to a corpse, and kept
The birds and beasts and famish'd men at bay,
Till hunger clung them, or the dropping dead
Lured their lank jaws; himself sought out no food,
But with a piteous and perpetual moan
And a quick desolate cry, licking the hand
Which answered not with a caress, he died.
The crowd was famish'd by degrees; but two
Of an enormous city did survive, And they were enemies;
They met beside
The dying embers of an altar-place
Where had been heap'd a mass of holy things
For an unholy usage; they raked up,
And shivering scraped with their cold skeleton hands
The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath
Blew for a little life, and made a flame
Wich was a mockery; then they lifted up
Their eyes as it grew lighter, and
Each other's aspects. saw, and shriek'd, and died, beheld
Even of their mutual hideousness they died,
Unknowing who he was upon whose brow
Famine had written Fiend. The world was void,
The populous and the powerful was a lump,
Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless,
A lump of death, a chaos of hard clay.
The rivers, lakes, and ocean stood still,
And nothing stirred within their silent depths;
Ships sailorless lay rotting on the sea,
And their masts fell down piecemeal; as they dropp'd
They slept on the abyss without a surge
The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,
The moon their mistress had expired before;
The winds were withered in the stagnant air,
And the clouds perish'd; Darkness had no need
Of aid from them. She was the universe.
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4. |
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Emile Nelligan
Oh! How the snow’s been snowing!
My window pane is a garden of frost.
Oh! How the snow’s been snowing!
What is the the spasm of living
to the painful grief I have, I have!
All the ponds are lying frozen,
Where is my life? My soul is black
And all her hopes are lying frozen;
Where do I go? I’m the New Norway
Wherefrom blond skies have gone away.
Cry, birds of February,
Cry at the sinister chill of things.
Cry, birds of February,
Cry my tears and cry my roses
At the branches of the juniper, cry.
Oh! How the snow’s been snowing!
My window pane is a garden of frost.
Oh! How the snow’s been snowing!
What is the the spasm of living
To all the boredom I have, I have!…
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5. |
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Rimbaud
It’s found we see.
What? – Eternity.
It’s the sun, free
To flow with the sea.
Soul on watch
Let whispers confess
Of the empty night
Of the day’s excess.
From the mortal weal
From the common urge
Here you diverge
To fly as you feel.
Since from you alone,
Embers of satin,
Duty breathes down
With no ‘at last’ spoken.
There’s nothing of hope,
No entreaty here.
Science and patience,
Torture is real.
It’s found we see.
What? – Eternity.
It’s the sun, free
To flow with the sea.
It’s found we see!
What? – Eternity.
It’s the sun, mingled
With the sea.
My immortal soul
Keep your vow
Despite empty night
And the day’s glow.
So you’ll diverge
From the mortal weal
From the common urge,
And fly as you feel…
– No hope, never,
No entreaty here.
Science and patience,
Torture is real.
No more tomorrow,
Embers of satin,
Your own ardour
The only duty.
It’s found we see.
– What? – Eternity.
It’s the sun, mingled
With the sea.
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Suffer Yourself Stockholm, Sweden
Through the darkness of futures past
The magician longs to see
One chants out between two worlds
Fire walk with me...
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