P.O.E.T.

In the Halls of Gethsemane (Pt,2)

Serpentine

Seraphim Song

Cave

Personal Jesus (DepecheMode Cover/Reimagined)

False Prophets

The Logical Song (Supertramp Cover/Reimagined)

Asylum

In The Name Of God

Aquarius

The Hermit

Melomania

Husk

Jabberwock

The Moonlight Sessions

The Doors We Closed

The Crocodile

The Starkind Entity

The Calm Before the Storm

Body Talk

Magno Opere

Hands & Knees

Slave

Starving Artists

How to Save the World

How To Save The World

The Men Who Bought The World

Huemans

Glitter!

Blacklights

Song exploring a fun beatles conspiracy...dont take it too literally

Mr. Mystic

Molly Knows Best

"Vice" is a moody, seductive pop-noir track that drips with late-night danger and allure. Built on percussive piano, lush synths, and a heartbeat bassline, it evokes the smoky glamour of a James Bond love scene unraveling into something darker.

This is a song about desire, deception, and the beautiful lies we choose to believe. It's velvet and venom — a warning wrapped in a whisper.

Let the mirror fog. Let the dice roll. Don’t fall in love with the Vice.

Vice

Rorschach

Chameleons

Smell The Roses

The Trick

Lover

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

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