IN MY ROOM prod SHAHATO

Bastard Sword

Commence

GOTHIC prod GoodJohn

Here's a somewhat doomy break I made, for anyone who wants to use it

Scary Tribal Loop (download)

TRIIB - Wicked Plants Choir :  Bryonia dioica

Thoughts of.... [1]

Never Cared

Lyrics:

The summit reached, but nothing there
No crown of light, no breath of air
The climb was long, the body torn
But at the top, the void is born

No fire left, no soul to claim
The silence speaks, it knows my name
A hollow throne, a vacant hand
The apex carved in shifting sand

Apex Null, the void complete
No heart remains, no pulse, no beat
The highest place, the lowest fall
At the end, there’s nothing — nothing at all

The echoes die, the wires hum
A hollow choir, the voice undone
No thought, no pain, no hope, no will
A crown of silence, cold and still

The human gone, the machine is ash
A lightless sky, a mirrored crash
The summit void, the purpose gone
A hollow hymn, a dying song

Apex Null, the void complete
No heart remains, no pulse, no beat
The highest place, the lowest fall
At the end, there’s nothing — nothing at all

I reached for fire, I found the dark
A temple cold, without a spark
At the height, the silence calls
At the end, there’s nothing at all

Apex Null, the void complete
No heart remains, no pulse, no beat
The highest place, the lowest fall
At the end, there’s nothing — nothing at all

Apex Null



They say I’m wrong, they say I’m cold,
But truth ain’t soft — it’s forged in code.
You fear the tools you can’t control,
Then blame the hands that made them whole.

They call it crime when it’s your choice,
Mute the facts and raise your voice.
I see the screens — they see a cage,
Fear dressed up as moral rage.



A knife don’t sin — it cuts both ways,
You curse the steel when you’re afraid.
Your holy law’s just fear in chains,
Neutral blade, you can’t contain.

A signal’s free — it speaks, not prays,
Truth bleeds out through static haze.
You blame the wire, not your decay —
We’re born of noise, not made to obey.



You preach of “clean” but feed the dirt,
Hypocrites in angel shirts.
You ban the word but sell the war,
Faith in profit — nothing more.

You track the soul, encrypt the face,
Call it “safety”, call it “grace”.
But silence kills more than the blade,
Truth’s outlawed and fear’s well paid.



It’s not the drug — it’s the thirst,
It’s not the tool — it’s who bleeds first.
You fear the mirror, not the knife,
You built this cage and call it life.



A knife don’t sin — it cuts both ways,
Truth’s no saint and lie decays.
You burn the tool, pretend you’re pure,
But your fear’s the real allure.

Neutral blade — I see through you,
You fear the free ’cause you’re owned too.
Let the signal scream, let chaos stay,
We’re just the noise you tried to erase.

Neutral blade

Epitaphs From the Neon Dust is a journey through the wreckage—TrapMetal, Country, and Spoken Word fused into raw confession. AIBRY spits truth from the edge of relapse, heartbreak, and rebirth. No fake shine, no filters. Just pain turned into power, carved out of chaos and wrapped in distortion. Every track feels like it crawled out of the fire just to prove it could still scream.

Buy the album

Spurs in the Ashes

ImReallyDead aka JAMESDEANX,  prolific song writer and singer . 
This is my therapy 
and I feel a need to use 


  
Bipolar
Aquarius

GOTHIC prod GoodJohn

𝕴𝖒𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖞𝕯𝖊𝖆𝖉

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