Ulcerate

There Is No Horizon

Ulcerate


Glares of submission and fear
Cast down on the unknown
Drift beyond obscurity
And become fatal
Silenced by anguish
Carry the burden of the dejected
With blank and hateful eyes
With worn expressions
It cannot prevail

The failing instilled in us
To prophesise a barren hellscape

There is no horizon
No coming of the next light

Enclosing minds
Gripped tight to the only escape
Eroding away

Become lifeless

As we approach total collapse
Raze it to the ground
Under which all will return

Unravel veneration of the infinite
Which stains all in its wake
Elicit meaning
And sever those who reject
There is no horizon
No coming of the next light

Divide and reclaim
Invoke upheaval
Of the insipid and worthless law
That again pulls in the helpless