SEIZURES - Voided

SEIZURES - Framed

TRAMPELFÂD
rec.name: " cells "
date. 8-04-2022

Cell Automata 4  by TRAMPELFÂD

Scutoper

Rotation

The Invisible Band - Rotation

pict free wallpaper
NLS = night live session  - here and now, one line

2022-04-12

NLS - 2022 - 04 - 12- Dawn

Original Music By :
https://soundcloud.com/loufaitduson/sanatorium

Axel Kolb - Sanatorium (Senglar Version)

a track by Marco Lucchi reworked by Walter Fini

ottobre 2022

Walter Fini & Marco Lucchi - Regenbogenekstase (Teil 2)

3iatlas sept25

time must stop when the roads cross at the end of the next dead end.  

Arturia Polybrute 12 

E.Mystifiti

Gandhara

Nouvelle version d'un titre de 2015.

The Dogs of Death

When the Dogs of Death,
Hungry and feverish,
Pass through the walls of my room to devour my soul.
My soul still warm to have so hated the fetters from my past
I want these Dogs to sink their sharp and raging fangs
Into my too white calcified flesh
And eat away this stone turned soft by the cold acidity of my last thoughts
And when my vital fluids turn to tar sinking beneath my weary bed
I pray these great hounds with their empty, cruel eyes to devour this vile bitumen
That has fired my deepest regrets for being human,
Sensitive and suffering
From others and from myself.
And then, with the last bite I will remember that always
I would prefer cats.
When the Dogs Of Death
Will be well fed my soul tortuous
They will circle around my cold bed
Waiting for the coming
Of the rest of the Wild Hunting

Lying there
My corpse
Not rotten but already corrupted
Will slowly stiffen up
So fugitive remains of my mind
Will coil up like a centipede In a puddle of my brain
So in a hound howl
Will come the time of the Others
The failures, the hybrids
These almost dead not completely alive
Those who exist only marginally
Between two non worlds
They will ooze from walls,
Will sink under furniture,
Will arrive in herd
In waves, in troops
In heap of empty and starving
Members and eyes

They will surround my stiff, mineral and rocky corpse
And will drip on me,
Will try to breathe their void In what is not already anymore me.
Without memory, without words and without thoughts
They will remember that they too one day should have died
But that their master refused them the demise
They are now condemned to remain puddles of undead and non life
Without getting anything other than sand, silica dust and cold ashes
To complete their empty orbits

Cell Automata 4 by TRAMPELFÂD

THE NEOILSOM GROUP

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