Verse 1)
Nymphomaniac who said they loved me
A sexual freak, a tantric lover beast
Polyamorous but only to two under my sheets
Past experience hurts but I was left in a happiness that bled down the sink
But in the end it became heavier than soaked graveyard dirt
Even still I want it today
But only if she says so
I don't know how to cheat
But everyone else did who I laid in bed with
Because I was so much more different than the sea of society
(Chorus)
Doll
Cracked face in neon colors
Drifting into a horror wonderland, a trauma story
Bloody scissors, midnight poisons
Drunk just not to feel the nightmares they fucked inside of me
Acid paper heart, holes in my soul
Life just doesn't mean a thing
But I must stay in the light
(Verse 2)
As heroin was my lover for so long and now just a bad dream
Locked frozen in a cryogenic suspended anti-gravity fuckery
I wish I would have just walked away
But I couldn't
So used to being used I just learned a Stockholm victim mentality
Hypersexually
So wrong or so right when you need seductive energy just to feel love
For every cut
For every burn
For every cigarette burn on my skin, for every year I got worse
No one saved me and I couldn't save myself
So I stained and took every blow, every fuck, every argument, every assault
I just let it bleed off me seconds after attack
Stuck with these dissociative identities
(Chorus)
Doll
Cracked face in neon colors
Drifting into a horror wonderland, a trauma story
Bloody scissors, midnight poisons
Drunk just not to feel the nightmares they fucked inside of me
Acid paper heart, holes in my soul
Life just doesn't mean a thing
But I must stay in the light
(Verse 3)
Stop romanticizing trauma
Sick fuck, go off your wrists, you stupid fuck
Adderall, Prozac, and being a guinea pig sucks
DID sucks, ASPD is social suicide
When you're a sociopath, BPD struggle to live with
CPTSD, PTSD, amnesia blends and blurs as I lose time
I keep staring at the clock just to make sure I didn't switch
When an alter is summoned to protect
I lose what little pieces left I have of self until I return
(Bridge)
Odium, Alice 5, Helix Nexus
Echoes, Mothyii, Phil Etheric Khimera
Why can't I make you disappear? Only co-consciousness with two
But you mess up my life fucking way too much
(Chorus – Final Variation)
Doll
Cracked face in neon colors
Drifting into a horror wonderland, a trauma story
Bloody scissors, midnight poisons
Just fuck me and get it over with
I won't cum until you say please
When I'm the dead child with voided eyes
Dreaming in Melankholyia
My system
(Outro – Spoken Word Fade)
Co-consciousness is a state where two or more distinct personalities, alters,
In someone with Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) are aware of each other
And the external world simultaneously. This can involve sharing thoughts,
Feelings, and experiences, allowing for internal communication
And a continuous sense of time, though it can also be experienced
As being a passive observer. It is different from co-fronting,
Where more than one alter is actively in control of the body at the same time.




Neon Cracked Doll 4

Neon Cracked Doll 5

[0:00-0:20] Intro  
Sterile hospital rooms with stark white walls and sturdy wooden doors stretching into the distance...  
Echoing silent hallways lined with cold blue linoleum floors, a vast and disorienting space that feels eternally lost and unforgivingly frigid...  
The ground beneath shifts from smooth tile to rough, unyielding stone, evoking ancient ruins buried in modern despair...  
(Snap to 110 BPM, the rhythm kicking in like a sudden heartbeat awakening from numbness.)

[0:20-1:00] Verse 1  
Deep cuts and bruises scattered across fragile skin, carefully wrapped in layers of pristine white cotton bandages that whisper of hidden wounds...  
Emotions muted like distant vibrations, muffled voices clinging close in the haze, holding on as if afraid to let go into the void...  
Soft whispers weave a haunting lullaby, cradling the shattered mind in four dissonant tones, while invisible voices grip from behind and the sides, pulling taut like unseen chains...  
No fragments of memory remain, trapped in a caged holder of forgotten moments, where dripping IV lines deliver fleeting clips of reality that blur and blend into chaos...  
Given and taken away in an instant, numbed skeletons coursing through veins like icy rivers, freezing the core from within...  
A numb expression masks the raging fire burning deep inside, as the world outside turns blurry through fogged glasses that switch between fractured minds...  
Emotions unravel like tangled threads, conjuring phantom faces emerging from the shadows, forth into a waking dissociative dream where faded ghosts melt seamlessly within the self, dissolving boundaries until nothing feels real...

[1:00-1:20] Chorus  
Disabled and defiant, refusing to surrender to rest or the pull of sleep's dark embrace...  
The doctor attempted to offer help, but it twisted into a forsaken future, and they simply walked away, leaving echoes of abandonment...  
Flight or fight surges through the blood like adrenaline-fueled lightning...  
Dysphoria spews forth in bitter fragments, gender splintered and buried under layers of unrelenting pain...  
Numb to the physical and mental disaster that consumes everything in its path...  
End it all, let the final curtain fall on this endless torment...

[1:20-2:00] Verse 2  
Nurses administer pills that erase the mind's sharp edges, wiping away thoughts like chalk from a blackened board...  
Sudden attacks crash against unyielding steel doors while the body lies in forced asleep, trapped in a cage of involuntary stillness...  
Injected sedatives course through the bloodstream, holding back the screams of excruciating pain that echo from the depths...  
Wrapped in white restraints, the mind switches to a fierce protector mode, emerging forth to singe the edges of sleep with defiant fire...  
Cycling emotions drift like storm clouds across a turbulent sky, moving in unpredictable patterns that leave no peace...  
Locked in frozen states of static, where echoing memories hold the self hostage across infinite multiverses riddled with bullet holes from past battles...  
Brought to this forsaken place by an attack from a person intent on killing the faulty programmer within, striking blows that resonate around the soul...  
Crushing the self with venomous words that inflict hurt and shame accumulated over years, where suicide has stalked like a shadow through walking dreams, whispering invitations to the end...



Room 013

I Want To Pull The Trigger

I Want To Pull The Trigger 2

Starting as an ending to the enslavement—no, this is the true enslavement, my chains forged from jagged shards of misery, locked away in the marrow of my bones, gnawing relentlessly, devouring from within like parasitic worms that burrow deeper with every breath...
Seeping poisons running like black ink under my pallid skin, crawling through veins that pulse with rot, invading the enamel of my teeth, grinding them to dust as I clench against the invasion...
I stare at you, crimson vial of temptation, and you taste like overripe cherries bursting on my tongue—a choking sweetness laced with thorns, the bitter aftertaste of wilted leaves from numbed fantasies that wilt and die in the light...
Chewable synthetic morphine, a devil's candy 1000 times the potency of heroin's whisper, lulling me into eternal sleep where dreams dissolve into void...
Awake yet severed, speaking in a disconnected tongue twisted by delirium, plucked from the gnarled branches of an opiate goddess's tree...
Indo Plant, she's the forsaken sister of the poppy, my divine tormentor, my unholy wife, cradling me in thorns as she feeds me her venomous milk...
I take you one by one, hour bleeding into hour, but as five agonizing hours crawl past, you infiltrate my body like slow-dripping cyanide, a toxic lover keeping me teetering on life's frayed edge...
Alive just to savor the exquisite agony of what death feels like—numb vibrations humming through hollowed flesh, a symphony of nothingness that echoes in my skull...
The metallic tang on my lips reminds me of blood, coppery and warm, spilling from self-inflicted wounds that never heal...
Hitting me like a insidious virus, trickling at first then rushing in a torrent through my bloodstream, flooding every cell with euphoric decay...
A warm blanket enveloping me, mimicking a mother's long-lost comfort, but twisted into a shroud that smothers...
Held captive by the emotions I couldn't grasp when awake and utterly alone, now amplified in this haze—raw, ripping grief, terror, and ecstasy intertwined, pulling me under into an abyss where escape is a forgotten myth, and the high is just prolonged suicide in disguise.

Verse 1
I feel like I'm dying
But I'm just walking
Another day so dull
It makes my head ache
Pre-Chorus
There's nothing to anticipate
The world's so grey
Outside eyes that only feel
In black and white
Chorus
Transformations within my mind
It's become so divine
When I slip into the trance for hours
Writing hidden messages
Giving knowledge to those who seek
I'm no god, but I am the divine
Verse 2
I feel like I'm fading
Into the shadows
Another moment lost
In this endless haze
Pre-Chorus
No colors to chase me
No sparks in the night
Just echoes of nothing
Swallowing the light
Chorus
Transformations within my mind
It's become so divine
When I slip into the trance for hours
Writing hidden messages
Giving knowledge to those who seek
I'm no god, but I am the divine
Bridge (spoken/sung softly, building intensity)
In the quiet, I awaken
Secrets unfold like ancient scrolls
The grey cracks open
And the light pours through...
Outro (repeat chorus, fading with echoes)
Transformations within my mind
(I'm the divine)
It's become so divine
(I'm the divine)
When I slip into the trance...
I'm no god, but I am the divine




I'm No God But I am the Divine

I'm No God But I am the Divine  2

I'm No God But I am the Divine  3

I'm No God But I am the Divine  4

Echo's N MelaNKholyiA : A Sonic Odyssey of Fragmented Souls
In the shadowed corners of Syracuse ,  Indiana, Echo's N MelaNKholyiA emerges as a groundbreaking experimental music project, a testament to the transformative power of art in the face of inner chaos. Founded in 2025 by the visionary artist Nexus Khimera—known also as Void, Echos, Mothyii, Alice, Helix, 5, Nexus Etheric ,Odium, Raven, and Death Moth this endeavor is an AI-assisted alchemical fusion of raw emotion and sonic innovation. At 38 years old, Khimera channels a lifetime of introspection, beginning from therapeutic explorations at age 15, into a tapestry of sound that defies categorization. The project's name, with its deliberate misspelling, evokes distorted echoes of melancholy—fragments of pain rebounding through an eternal void, mirroring the fragmented realities Khimera weaves into every composition.
Khimera serves as the sole architect of Echo's N MelanKholyia, handling vocals, lyrics, production, and visual aesthetics with a chameleon-like versatility. Drawing from a deeply personal narrative of psychological navigation, the music acts as a manifesto for survival, blending co-conscious identity shifts and emotional rebirth. The band's conceptual "members"—envisioned as alters in a dissociative system—include Helix as the resilient core, Alice as the protective guardian embodying transgender identity and safety, Phuric, and Odium as the unflinching confrontor of hate and vacuum, Five as the frozen residue of past emptiness, and Suicide Gene as the unnamed pull toward nothingness, symbolizing unyielding survival code. These personas "speak" through layered vocals, reversed whispers, and glitchy confessions, creating a dialogue that invites listeners to confront their own shadows without judgment.
Musically, Echo's N MelanKholyia is a hypnotic storm of genres: traumacore's dissonant catharsis meets industrial gothcore's mechanical fury, nu metal's rap-growl aggression, post-darkwave's ethereal haze, glitchcore's chaotic distortions, and voidcore's abyssal emptiness. The result is an immersive, addictive soundscape—binaural beats pulsing at 40Hz and 174Hz to tie in seduction and euphoria, 3D audio for psychotic despair, and unpolished production that bleeds raw intensity. Themes delve into mental health's labyrinth: dissociation's void, addiction's grip, damaging relationships' scars, and the triumph of self-reclamation. Khimera's artistry extends beyond audio to visual realms, with album artwork featuring charcoal sketches, gothic horror elements, and luciferian symbolism, all crafted to evoke a "junkie holocaust death march" of creepy, apocalyptic introspection.
Since its inception, Echo's N MelanKholyia has released a series of chapters that push artistic boundaries, available on platforms like Spotify, Amazon Music, SoundCloud, Apple Music, Tidal, Qobuz, and TikTok. The project's YouTube channel serves as a portal for official music videos, behind-the-scenes glimpses, and community engagement, fostering a space where fans can explore their own narratives through Khimera's lens. With collaborations leveraging AI for production and thematic depth, the band stands as a beacon for the disenchanted, proving that art can heal, empower, and transcend.
Subscribe to Echo's N MelanKholyia on YouTube for a journey into the melanKholyia—where echoes of the past forge omegas of the future. For inquiries or collaborations, connect via Facebook or X (@Mothyii13). All rights reserved © 2025 Echo's N MelanKholyia.

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