Fuck me like a whore,  

 You know its what I'm use to,  

 I just want to feel love, even if it hurts me, 

 Trapped in a hole but I can still see myself

 Wrap me in the thrill I fuck wish I was killed,

 Fuck me like you hate me, 

your my fucking disease, 

The time is running past,

 time means nothing to me, 

 Give me drugs,

 I don't want to feel me in you, 

so sick, so fucked over, 

I want everything I can get when love means nothing, 

 But I don't want you, 

I have to taste the destruction,

 you did to me,

 it's a hate that consumed me, 

 you make me sick as I could be,

  Vomiting up the thoughts of you,

 cutting out the parts of me,

 but I still taste them today,

 I wanted to kill myself every time we fucked,

  You used me like a toy you put me through hell and I couldn't leave love was violence,

 every hit was depravity,

   I can't feel love now unless I get fucked,

 I don't want to die alone, 

 you ripped my heart out,

  It's already sick with promises,

 I'm done with it,

 I have to relearn everything,



GIvE mE dRugS #2

A place where light can hide, intrusive thoughts of suicide and a deep love  

The soul that was ripped apart, I hold in this vessel dreaming,

 For all my Scars and burns that run deep over my veins I must confide,

So my sights so empty I can only feel of moments that breathe, 

 So the edge of this knife, 

Cuts out the parts of the damage I hold, I pray to god they die with me,

Which I can not find relief, from the nightmares that rape my mind,

 Hollowing out myself, 

Just to walk among the living,

Disconnected, shapeshifting, wearing a mask of many smiles with blacked marble gloss eyes,

But underneath that mask 
Drowning in the mist of desire, 

Seeping in the blood of forever,

Standing to the angels of devour,

Bleed to sacrifice the inner child,

To awaken the monster of power,

Bred within the indulgence of a poppy flower,

I see the needle prick, bruises in the strawberry garden,

Resting in the hands of God's the goddess of sleep consumes the angels  of monsters,

Lost in a river of reflection so death strays to break its wings to relieve the trauma,

Bombs of memories fill my head, 

Flashes of pain scars my mind ,

a sadness blended with madness , forgotten to the times of endless existence,

So I remind myself I am alive in the fields of transcendental resistance,

To walking away to rise above the land of the living to run in the fires of hell,

It flows through my blood, 

Swimming in lost memories,

Shocked to the system my soul replaced with a gem of the divine,

So bored to the reality of the basic tastes of the senses of the reanimated, brings my senses passed the land of the living, breathing, Standing up to the demons of earth

Spiting in the face of the devil as the poppy flowers dance around me 

Drowning me in the bliss of the dawn of morning, eyes opening to the lies of the wicked to leek out the influence of the liquid death
Is the mask of the dead child , 

Now the man transformed into the chameleon  of flowers to the beholder,

  The child that was once my inner self ,  

That's been lobotomized, from the hands of the adversaries, 

For every time you screamed at me, for every time you beat me,

To the false feeling of love being used when you got to close to me,

Just to be ripped away by the infidelity but thankful you where destroyed ,  

 For I lived through a waking hell, 

From being tortured continually abandoned looking for love in the abusive void, 

Used sexually like a doll in a barless cage,

 A torment enduring the shame of feeling anything at all

The shame of having emotions,

 That bleed all over the floor, from the loss of my innocents,

Cradled deep below inside the dawn of my memory ,

I find myself crying to the sounds of the breaking morning,

As sleep is the enemy I must reflect on this,

Shattered like a church window,

The glass that is as stained as my soul 

Fractured but not lost forever

I one day will be whole  

Even if the pieces don't fit perfectly,   




SuiCidAl PoPpy #1

Drowning in the mist of desire, 

Seeping in the blood of forever,

Standing to the angels of devour,

Bleed to sacrifice the inner child,

To awaken the monster of power,

Bred within the indulgence of a poppy flower,

I see the needle prick, bruises in the strawberry garden,

Resting in the hands of God's the goddess of sleep consumes the angels  of monsters,

Lost in a river of reflection so death strays to break its wings to relieve the trauma,

Bombs of memories fill my head, 

Flashes of pain scars my mind ,

a sadness blended with madness , forgotten to the times of endless existence,

So I remind myself I am alive in the fields of transcendental resistance,

To walking away to rise above the land of the living to run in the fires of hell,

It flows through my blood, 

Swimming in lost memories,

Shocked to the system my soul replaced with a gem of the divine,

So bored to the reality of the basic tastes of the senses of the reanimated, brings my senses passed the land of the living, breathing, Standing up to the demons of earth

Spitting in the face of the devil as the poppy flowers dance around me 

Drowning me in the bliss of the dawn of morning, eyes opening to the lies of the wicked to leek out the influence of the liquid death

DrOwN Me #00

SCREAMERS (Feat.) Xes Lana, SPIX3R
[Prod.] 

SCREAMERS (Feat.) SPIX3R [Prod.]

In My Room 2
(Feat.) Xes Lana, SPIX3R
[Prod.]

In My Room 2 (Feat.) SPIX3R [Prod.]

She Wolf (2)

Fear Is The Hell Comes From (1)

A Solar Eclipse

Stay Here For Me

Don't Bother Talking

Yours Than Ever (Dominate & Submissive ) (1)

My Senpai Will Never Love Another

My World Is Burning Around Me 93

Family Are Cruel (1)

Earth Is Just A Place We Live

Echo's N MelaNKholyiA : A Sonic Odyssey of Fragmented Souls
In the shadowed corners of  Indiana, Echo's N MelaNKholyiA emerges as a groundbreaking experimental music project, a testament to the transformative power of art in the face of inner chaos. Founded in 2025 by the visionary artist Nexus Khimera—known also as Void, Echos, Mothyii, Alice, Helix, 5, Nexus Etheric ,Odium, Raven, and Death Moth this endeavor is an AI-assisted alchemical fusion of raw emotion and sonic innovation. At 38 years old, Khimera channels a lifetime of introspection, beginning from therapeutic explorations at age 15, into a tapestry of sound that defies categorization. The project's name, with its deliberate misspelling, evokes distorted echoes of melancholy—fragments of pain rebounding through an eternal void, mirroring the fragmented realities Khimera weaves into every composition.
Khimera serves as the sole architect of Echo's N MelanKholyia, handling vocals, lyrics, production, and visual aesthetics with a chameleon-like versatility. Drawing from a deeply personal narrative of psychological navigation, the music acts as a manifesto for survival, blending co-conscious identity shifts and emotional rebirth. The band's conceptual "members"—envisioned as alters in a dissociative system—include Helix as the resilient core, Alice as the protective guardian embodying transgender identity and safety, Phuric, and Odium as the unflinching confrontor of hate and vacuum, Five as the frozen residue of past emptiness, and Suicide Gene as the unnamed pull toward nothingness, symbolizing unyielding survival code. These personas "speak" through layered vocals, reversed whispers, and glitchy confessions, creating a dialogue that invites listeners to confront their own shadows without judgment.
Musically, Echo's N MelanKholyia is a hypnotic storm of genres: traumacore's dissonant catharsis meets industrial gothcore's mechanical fury, nu metal's rap-growl aggression, post-darkwave's ethereal haze, glitchcore's chaotic distortions, and voidcore's abyssal emptiness. The result is an immersive, addictive soundscape—binaural beats pulsing at 40Hz and 174Hz to tie in seduction and euphoria, 3D audio for psychotic despair, and unpolished production that bleeds raw intensity. Themes delve into mental health's labyrinth: dissociation's void, addiction's grip, damaging relationships' scars, and the triumph of self-reclamation. Khimera's artistry extends beyond audio to visual realms, with album artwork featuring charcoal sketches, gothic horror elements, and luciferian symbolism, all crafted to evoke a "junkie holocaust death march" of creepy, apocalyptic introspection.
Since its inception, Echo's N MelanKholyia has released a series of chapters that push artistic boundaries, available on platforms like Spotify, Amazon Music, SoundCloud, Apple Music, Tidal, Qobuz, and TikTok. The project's YouTube channel serves as a portal for official music videos, behind-the-scenes glimpses, and community engagement, fostering a space where fans can explore their own narratives through Khimera's lens. With collaborations leveraging AI for production and thematic depth, the band stands as a beacon for the disenchanted, proving that art can heal, empower, and transcend.
Subscribe to Echo's N MelanKholyia on YouTube for a journey into the melanKholyia—where echoes of the past forge omegas of the future. For inquiries or collaborations, connect via Facebook or X (@Mothyii13). All rights reserved © 2025 Echo's N MelanKholyia.

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New tracks tagged #gothcore