B22: The Hive and the Hole

In this blissful repose of nothingness
He will face his festering sores
In this demented space of the Otherworld

There was never any choice in free will
I am the hunter and the game
On this inch of Eden
Lies the pride and the shame
Everywhere and nowhere
An outer world, an inner heaven
But there where nеver martyrs here
So, climb down from your fucking cross

Thеre is a war to win
The mirror need not ask for contrition
But 'worse' is a widening hole;
An infernal river to the sea
In this demented space of the Otherworld
Every face is an object of disgust
That further multiplies the terror
Here, a cognitive dissonance exists

The devil gave a voice to free will
To the passion and the pain
Until I break the fevers, or the vision is in vain
I bled for slavish art
Into the hive and the hole
Who knew these writing hands
Could be damned with a decent heart

In the end it may all be for nothing
Wailing in Job-like lamentations
Bedevilled in exile
In times of famine, the Devil feeds on flies
Beckon the dance into abyssal fire
Through reigning narrows
Inborn and outward bound
Deface and grind the glory
For the hive and the hole

In horror, in terror, in disgust
Those whom the gods would destroy
They first make mad

To hell with the gods in this abyssal fire
Wailing in Job-like lamentations
Bedevilled in exile
In times of famine, the devil feeds on flies
As we beckon the dance into abyssal fire
Inborn and outward bound
Deface and grind the glory
For the hive and the hole