P.O.E.T.

In the Halls of Gethsemane (Pt,2)

Astrid (qb bills/falsestart)

Eyes Without A Face- Billy Idol
cover by Marisa Bettina

🩸🧿

Eyes Without A Face

Recorded with Squire CV 70s Jazz Bass and Fruity Loops. Drum patterns are taken from FPC plugin in cooperation with AKAI MPD128

Natare

on the right side of the partition
is a place not for the public eye
where the weathered, seasoned folk go to drink whiskey and smoke
and the light weights go to die

got rednecks pounding tables
broken glass from left to right
go on and get your smoke on
now whatcha gettin drunk on?
if it ain't whiskey you ain't right.

fuck yer fuckin liver
got ya another bottle

fuck yer fuckin liver
got ya another bottle

somebody yacked and missed the trashcan
now we're burning shit outside
just keep your fuckin head out of that old bucket of oil
and you'll prolly fuckin be alright

fuck yer fuckin liver
got ya another bottle

fuck yer fuckin liver
got ya another bottle

one's face down in the concrete
another's passed out in a chair
hey where the fuck ya goin?
i  see you down there crawlin
no one told you, that you were done here

fuck yer fuckin liver
got ya another bottle

fuck yer fuckin liver
got ya another bottle

Stephen Malson's Album

The Liver

Blood Moon.mp3

Gypsophila Elegans

Art work: Oleg Gamulinskiy via Pixabay

カスミソウ　草のヒアデス　プレアデス
星の配置の奥に遺影（かお）あり

Gypsophila elegans is in full bloom.
Like the star clusters of the Hyades and Pleiades.
Flowers cluster like stars, and behind them is a portrait photo of a deceased person.

Gypsophila Elegans

Why Can't We Be Friends? - Jamie Rhind

This Long Ago

Before the End

You won't take me alive
But you kept me alive
What you can't realize
There's no more scares underneath my skin
I can't get all of it out of my head
But you let me out of this hell I've been in
But I'll raise the flag I surrender my sins
It's cold outside, I need you here
Just grab the torch and light me on fire

And it's on this side
Everything was a lie
I've been hiding behind
Won't take all your time
Just wash away the pain
I keep demons out the way
And every day I'm feeling drained
And I keep getting nowhere
I'm always gonna fuck it up

You won't take me alive
But you kept me alive
What you can't realize
There's no more scares underneath my skin
I can't get all of it out of my head
But you let me out of this hell I've been in
But I'll raise the flag I surrender my sins
It's cold outside, I need you here
Just grab the torch and light me on fire

surrender...

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