Type III E.P.

Miscalculation

Miscalculated on a quest for power most divine
A fear of being deceived and tainted by an ever-growing, flesh-condemning
Covenant of higher purpose, try as all one might
A last exhaustive futile attempt to obscure their future sight

Splitting open the bonds holding the heavens shut,
A conduit channels energy its body bursting at the seams,
An overwhelming panic fills the gut as echoed voices scream.
This hell that manifested bends the psyche to its will to be,
Forever bound an unclean servant, pleading to be killed.

Miscalculated on a quest for power most divine
A fear of being deceived and tainted by an ever-growing, flesh-condemning
Covenant of higher purpose, try as all one might
One last exhaustive futile attempt to obscure their future sight.

Exiled. Former allies garnered there was a breach of trust.
Scavenger. Searching space for lifeforms fit to satiate my lust.
Harvest. Sacrificial offerings must not go to waste, 
Type III’s ire will never expire,
for their plans take root and they surge in pace.
Summoner.Channeled intent caused horrors to awake inside.
Archon. Transforming man to arbiter of space of time.
Mortal. Stealing control under guise of empowerment was key. To use and abuse man’s savagery to further the dream of one entity.

Slave. I have no will. They stripped me of the only joy I held,
The acknowledgement that my intent,
can shape the universe around me.
I saw the decline of the planet, 
(and) sacrificed everything to start again. Slave.

Explosions reflect in my eye,
as I open a rift to try and escape their sight.
My anger is a best served cold,
calculated plan to remove the gods of old.

Miscalculated for I fear my morals misaligned.
My holy thoughts were shaped, raped,
taken from me to be used by fucking,
Covenants of higher purpose,
travelling through time.
They’ll never relent with their quest,
to repress and concur all known life.

Miscalculation

Masters of another timeline, forming into one collective,
Cataclysmic cosmic horrors, use us for your own objective,
Falling to my knees I wonder, how to place my thoughts asunder,
‘Is this but a fearful vision, manifesting to fruition?’
Waking from my cryochamber, enter existential terror.

Nightmare cosmos brings me closer to this space in place of all,
What’s known is not, what’s not will be
For there is no uncertainty, this hulking mass of galaxies are catalysts to call Type III.

A rip in hyperspace is all I see before my eyes explode,
Their vehicle a divine vessel
Consuming energy unchained, the horror that awaits us all 
If we seek to disobey the mighty race of space travel.

“We can shape ye mortal to our image,
Create a paradise, your own,
All we ask is your compliance,

For our vision is reliant
That you trade your hate for reason and atone...
For not using your untapped potential 
Your mighty empire will always fall
Until you hold the truth as your one highest virtue
Your place amongst the stars shall be alone”

I board their interstellar ship
To find it but a disguised crypt
I freeze in fear, my body numb.
Their task becoming clear to me
These beings are a monstrosity
They harvest every world they see

How could it be I’m doomed this fate,
My freedom obsolete,
Something triggered their arrival
Could it have been me?
My memory a crimson haze
The colour could be key
It matches what I saw before
I entered cryosleep

Turning back I see the mess I left before I woke
A portal from inside my ship, bodies with bones now broke.
It all comes flooding back to mind, the ancient texts I spoke,
Screaming “xenochrist come forth!”

These aliens infected me,
possessed , defiled, injected me,
Convince myself that this can’t be
Protect my crumbling sanity
Perhaps I merely wished to see
Fulfil my morbid grotesque dream

“Mortal you have proved your worth,
Come forth and witness your rebirth
As an archon of the cosmos
For it was you who summoned us
Your prior knowledge ours to keep forever more”

These aliens infected me,
possessed , defiled, injected me,
Convince myself that this can’t be
Protect my crumbling sanity
Perhaps I merely wished to see
Fulfil my morbid grotesque dream

Traversing through dimensions
Reaping energy we find
No beings can oppose us
Now our powers are aligned
Why they let me live
I’ll ponder for another time
Transcending human form, my dream,
I'm finally alive
Becoming a monstrosity
Embrace my destiny harvesting galaxies.
I will serve my newfound purpose,
nothing but a pawn and
Join their vision beyond.

Type III

A passing ship decides my pod is worth investigation...
On board a crew of scavengers, suspicious of my motives.
I calmly reassure them I am nothing to be feared
When a vivid energy, pulses from an artifact nearby.
I’ve felt this in my dreams, a book of most importance.
It’s haunted me for nights on end, I must find out the contents.
Faint soft spoken voices whisper, “you must do what they can not”.
A tear descends unto the ground, my vision blurs, my ears bleed...
Regenerative conscience from molecular transcendence
will be the end of everything. I’ve put this off for far too long,
The time has come to start!

Qui totum vult totum, perdit. Factum fieri infectum non potest.
Qui totum vult totum, perdit. Factum fieri infectum non potest. 
Begin the summonings.

Repurposing life, for my master,
Usher in a new age of darkness.
Texts born from the night,
A sunken state where light divides .

Hacking flesh, sawing bone. Redistributing meat sacks on my own.
Freshly peeled, tendons cut. Organs found, now to wrap them up.
Their stiffened bodies weigh me down, I haul them to the core to be
Dissolved in acid, ground to paste, combine their blood, the heresy.
Apocalypse is drawing near,, upon my face a seething grin,
Study text to clarify the order in which I begin.

Qui totum vult totum, perdit. Factum fieri infectum non potest. 
Qui totum vult totum, perdit. Factum fieri infectum non potest.
Qui totum vult totum. Qui totum vult totum. Qui totum vult totum. Qui totum vult totum
Infectum non potest.

Facing the eyes of the gods, and they are horrific.

Hacking flesh, sawing bone. Redistributing meat sacks on my own.
Freshly peeled, tendons cut. Organs found, now to wrap them up.
Sawing bone, hacking flesh. The pleasure I feel outweighs distress.
Tendons cut, freshly peeled, impending is the time to kneel.

Qui totum vult totum, perdit. Factum fieri infectum non potest. 
Qui totum vult totum, perdit. Factum fieri infectum non potest.
Commence the conjuring.

Cower before Type III. I have performed all you asked of me. 
Ancient Technology. Instrumental to gain cosmic supremacy.

Human Resources

Intro

UK based Technical Death Metal. I write songs about aliens and probably other stuff sometimes.

Type III E.P.

Malachor