L'Occultisme

Foreign Policy

Gnosis of the Mind

(Demo) Master of Alchemy

(Demo) Innocentia Nihil Probat

Lost City Of Kalahari

“It’s nothing new we’re doing, my friend,” I said, “in choosing Apollo and Apollo’s instruments ahead of Marsyas and his instruments.”
- The Republic

(Demo) The Flaying Of Marsyas

Under black astra bones
Silken white threaded cloak
Herod watches atop
Gold and malachite throne

There she dances alone
Under star covered dome
Angels from above flown
Pray that you may atone

Torn from burial bliss
Out from the depths of the abyss
Dances the promiscuous whore

Follow the player’s drone
Dance to his beat alone
Worship the holy tombstone
Gold and malachite throne

Torn from burial bliss
Out from the depths of the abyss
Dances the promiscuous whore

Glory found upon this
Court smells of blood sweat and piss
Dances the promiscuous whore

Prince Of Babylon

Hanging so still, longing
Like moss grows on the tree
Our futures intertwining 
But we’re stuck in between

I still hear the whispers
As they’re calling me
Bringing me tomorrow
Where serenity may be

Its tangles run beneath me
Its roots dig into my soul
I pretend not to feel them
Face better things alone

And so we sit here waiting
Beneath the willow tree
And as the moss consumes us
Within the soil, we’ll be

But before you lay your head to rest
I hope that you can say you did your best
uncoiling, unraveling us
and even still I know you have my trust

Bury Me Beneath The Willow Tree (ft. Cassiopeia)

A shell covered by dust
Embraced by moss
These old roots
Have grown weary

A great summoning
Drums beating in the distance
From behind the veil
A hand extends

Through the valleys
And golden halls
Passing the broken monuments
Across the great river

Across the great river
Towards that final harbour

Her whisper piercing the air
Like nails dropping on desert sand
Brought by a dying wind
“Silence is freedom”

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