An exploration into the anatomy of the botfly

Ignorance reminds us of our hearts and what they really tell us.

The Joke's On Me

Sunset Sky

The scenery and clothes are quite different from modern times, but people's tastes may not change much.

Hundred Years Ago

Hundred Years Ago（１００年前）

What A Wonderful Way To Go

F-Frozen Drone

Gleeful Power

Spiral

Magno Opere

Hands & Knees

The Sky Will Be Empty (Rock version)

Ever been around someone you thought might need this song?   

Lyrics:

You talk too much, do it every day
Cant hear myself think with all your words in the way
You talk too much and im not implyin'
motormouth running with noone drivin'

Silence is golden, respect is earned
mouth always open, you'll never learn
Blabbermouth blabbadin, always something to say
Just shut the fuck up and go away

You talk too much, won't take a hint
Everybody's gone, wonder where they went
You talk too much, no wordsmith contender
Raging talk-a-holic on a weekend bender

Silence is golden, respect is earned
mouth always open, you'll never learn
Mouthpiece display, always something to say
Just shut the fuck up and go away

I gotta bounce, cant deal right now
Gotta get away but you find me anyhow
So much to say, what’s the goal
Just bullshit coming out every hole
Oh you got advice? You got plans?
Go pay a model to listen on onlyfans
 
Silence is golden, respect is earned
mouth always open, you'll never learn
Know it all, talk-monger, day-after-day
Just shut the fuck up and go away

Bringin everyone down, killed the mood like that
If it was a talent, you'd be sittin on stacks
You need a new hobby, this is not the way
Just shut the fuck up and go away
Shut the fuck up and go away

STFU

Buy me!

Prophet of End Times is not a name — it’s a diagnosis. A statement of intent. A trigger. A warning.

For those paying close attention, this project began long before the music arrived. Long before the signals were transmitted. Long before the world tilted past its breaking point and pretended it hadn’t noticed.

This isn’t performance. It’s process. It’s prophecy by distortion, melody through the ruins, dissonance weaponized. A mosaic of failed systems and burned timelines, rebuilt in layers of noise and silence.

You’re hearing architecture. You’re listening to strategy. Every frequency, every glitch, every warped harmony carries data. Every lyric is a crack in the wall.

Somewhere in the signal:
a map.
a message.
a matchstick.

You are not expected to understand immediately. You are expected to pay attention.

Because nothing here is arbitrary.
Not the song titles. Not the sound choices. Not the silences.
Not even this bio.

There are people who will find this. Who will feel something they can’t name. Who will know where to dig.

Not all puzzles look like puzzles.
Not all transmissions arrive decoded.
Not all prophets wear robes.

Some wear scars.
Some wear static.
Some just press “upload.”

𓂀
Class: Classified
Genre: Post-industrial occult pop / strategic subversion / experimental prophecy
Mood: Unsettling / revelatory / confrontational
File under: surveillance bait, musical sigil, metaphysical warfare
𓁹

For entertainment purposes only.
All coincidences are intentional.
You were warned.

Artifacts: BGlueYml0Lmx5LzJ0aGVzc2Fsb25pYW5zMngxLTEy

Hands & Knees

Prophet of End Times

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