[Based on the so-called human predicament - an
examination of the absurdity of life in the absence of
God]
The brute nausea of existence, the becoming feature of
an oracular ocean of angry static,devotes itself to
this forgotten planet. The modern man, bound and
chained in a lightless basement, cries out for purpose,
for value, for an unwarranted jump to the
prohibitedsecond story. Cursed to a barren land of
rigid indifference, a kingdom built on the “firm
foundations of unyielding despair,” his clutching
fingers find no substance to grasp, no material for
meaning.
He opens wide his eager mouth, but his lungs reject the
acrid air. The invariable product of the cold mechanics
of this blind machine.
He opens wide his eager mouth, but his lungs reject the
acrid air. The invariable product of the cold mechanics
of this blind machine.
committed to the communal grave, the mindless universe
permits all things. These grand ethics we’ve created,
these nominal objectives in which we struggle to
discover a just cause to believe, prove no gain but
defeat.
A blurry picture painted with the debris of morality, a
vilipend masterpiece orchestrated in the lifeless
fashion of pseudo-reality.
We’ve erased the sun, and yet we still try to see.
We’ve erased the sun, and yet we still try to see.
The brute nausea of existence, the becoming feature of
an oracular ocean of angry static,devotes itself to
this forgotten planet.
Cursed to a barren land of rigid indifference, a broken
kingdom
We’ve erased the sun
We’ve erased the sun