Suffocate.

Burn for me.

Fibrous crystalline matter.

Burn for me.

Notes of grass and leather.

Burn for me.

I’ll only say this once.

I wish I didn’t have to give you up.

Burn for me.

Habitual since 16.

My first was at 10.

No fucking clue, how am I not already dead?

God granted chemicals wracking my brain.

Flem thick.

Throat sore.

Eyes black and white like film noir.

So addicting to the point of adoration.

Throw them away, but never can I erase them.

Burn for me.

Fibrous crystalline matter.

Burn for me.

Notes of grass and leather.

Burn for me.

I’ll only say this once.

Your love is like a gun.

Burn for me.

So much wealth, lost to fire.

Ask myself, what is my desire?

No fucking clue, not a glimmer of hope.

More beautiful than lustrous dope.

Pale and sick.

Acrid rope.

Smelling of blood and tar.

Took it long, took it hard.

Sucked it gone, took it too far.

Burn for me.

Fibrous crystalline matter.

Burn for me.

Notes of grass and leather.

Burn for me.

I’ll only say this once.

The juice is not worth the squeeze.

Burn for me.

Waging war with my anxiety.

Waging war with my bones.

Waging war with crawling skin.

Waging war and wishing I was stoned.

Devil’s dick.

Trying to cope.

Metric ton of bricks.

Getting hit by a car.

The pain is only temporary, but it’s shadow leaves a scar.

Burn for me.

Fibrous crystalline matter.

Burn for me.

Notes of grass and leather.

Burn for me.

I’ll say this only once..

It was never all that fun…

Burn for me.

Smoke.
Smoke.
Smoke.
Smoke.
Smoke.
Smoke.

Burn for me.

Smoke.
Smoke.
Smoke.
Smoke.
Smoke.
Smoke.

Burn for me.

Smoke.
Smoke.
Smoke.
Smoke.
Smoke.

Smoke. -Michael Ament

Quote.

Most things in life are inconsequential.

The worst thing you could do to yourself is have expectations.

You lose the ability to compartmentalize and you end up hating and being inconvenienced by every little thing.

Life is too short.

We’re all going to die, we’re all eventually are going to be forgotten, everything we build, everything we destroy, will be met with an equal opposite force and be put back in it’s place.

I realized this not long after I became an adult.

I threw away my dreams, my ambitions, my desires, my ego, my expectations of myself and others.

Ever since I’ve been living in spite of it all.

Living for the present day.

Living for comfort.

Living for love.

Living for the small fortunes bestowed upon us by this glorious world.

This glorious creation of God.

Now..

I live for peace.

I’m manifesting memories and happiness.

That’s all I’ll ever want or need. -Michael Ament

Token.

Bacteria.

Microbes in a petri dish.

That’s what I see when I look upon you.

Skeletons, walking corpses.

Lizards and monkeys.

When will it dawn on you?

Miniscule, insignificant, ashes to ashes.

Taste like charcoal.

The suffering accrued.

At the peak of absurdity, cynicism and the lot.

Substantially, fundamentally broken.

It’s inconsequential.

All that shit you fought for.

Just a token, to celebrate insanity.

It’s inconsequential.

Loss and gain, revolving door.

Like clockwork.

Wheels and gears.

Rage for the machine.

Queers and steers.

Short and lean.

Flies buzzing around disillusioned flesh.

Content with consensual coma.

Consensus and soma.

33 degrees, and a worthless diploma.

Sustained by blissful ignorance.

Cognitive dissonance.

Only your captors know you well.

It’s inconsequential.

All that shit you fought for.

Just a token, to celebrate insanity.

It’s inconsequential.

Loss and gain, revolving door.

Like clockwork.

Bastards and prostitutes.

Puppets and radical elements.

Criminals and crazies.

God took a shit.

Meatheads and limp wrists.

Burn the writ.

Were it so simplistic.

Value applied is value lost.

Polite identity holocaust.

Dye your hair or shave your head, feels as though you’re better off dead.

Fill your coffers or share your bread.

It’s inconsequential.

All that shit you fought for.

Just a token, to celebrate insanity.

It’s inconsequential.

Loss and gain, revolving door.

Like clockwork. -Michael Ament

Corpsemass.

Mass of flesh.

Black in dress.

Shoulder to shoulder.

Hearts no colder.

Hate and anger.

Sadness and death.

Double-edged sword.

The edge is caressed.

Madness.

This is madness.

No better time to render.

Never surrender.

Madness.

This madness.

Shove them in a pit.

Bury me in shit.

Do as you’re fucking told.

Killing each other, your blood is gold.

Mass of flesh.

I am your king of worms.

Black in dress.

Pain is assured.

Shoulder to shoulder.

A mosaic of shields.

Hate and anger.

Release it into the field.

Sadness and death.

This is your fate, this is real.

A double edged sword, die for me or kneel.

Madness.

This is madness.

No better time to render.

Never surrender.

Madness.

This madness.

Shove them in a pit.

Bury me in shit.

Do as you’re fucking told.

Killing each other, your blood is gold.

Mass of flesh.

Reddened crest.

Fodder and carrion, feed the blessed.

Corpse starch and swine blood.

Degenerates in their hovels rut.

God, neither here nor there, save yourself or rot in mud.

Indignant condescending stare, below me, I see your hair, twirling like thunder crosses.

Bring your shit in, and get accosted.

Mass of flesh.

Black in dress.

Shoulder to shoulder.

Hearts no colder.

Hate and anger.

Sadness and death.

Double-edged sword.

The edge is caressed.

Madness.

This is madness.

No better time to render.

Never surrender.

Madness.

This madness.

Shove them in a pit.

Bury me in shit.

Do as you’re fucking told.

Killing each other, your blood is gold.

Corpsemass!

Corpsemass!

Corpsemass!

The ritual unfolds! -Michael David Ament

The Gods Lie.

Salty eyed spectres stare seven hells below.

Slithering snakes subjugate sallow supplicants in a row.

Severe symptoms undulate, sorrowful sapphire pills alleviate; say it isn’t so.

Severance shifts the samhain’s sensual fairy ring sublime.

Shiver the same glacial cold the Saturnalia’s fatherland sold; then died.

Blank slate said the slaves of soporific desire, save us from the Sabbath tonight; for the gods did lie.

Speaking in the serpentine tongue; with the fall comes my time.

Mars and Pluto aligned with the stars my favor will define, the future inherent; the old world will shine.

Outlast the summer, I divine; take what’s rightfully mine.

Silk and stone surrender to symmetry.

The stoic and sensible sleeplessly starve their consciousness.

Selfishly I set fire to sacred steeple.

Sadistic saboteurs sacralize sacrilege with a sacrifice of sanity.

Scream and synchronize with self-centered amity.

Seldom comes the shade in time for shelter from the silent calamity.

Speaking in the serpentine tongue; with the fall comes my time.

Mars and Pluto aligned with the stars my favor will define, the future inherent; the old world will shine.

Outlast the summer, I divine; take what’s rightfully mine.

Salivating over sweetly shallow prospects; this shell won’t be satisfied until the very end.

Silver and suffering, slippery slope with this spell; unto the source my soul will blend.

Spare me your spiritual shill, spite is the only substantial statement I know, I will not submit; only rend.

Superficial sympathies only sustain subjectifiers of men.

Savages, satyrs, and salves, serendipity gladly halved, omniscient; here it begins.

Call out to your savior, no one is saving you; I’m a scarab beneath your skin.

Speaking in the serpentine tongue; with the fall comes my time.

Mars and Pluto aligned with the stars my favor will define, the future inherent; the old world will shine.

Outlast the summer, I divine; take what’s rightfully mine.

the gods did lie.

the gods did lie.

the gods did lie. –Michael David Ament

Maiden’s Heart.

A maiden’s heart is a song of life and death.

Drums beat in time to the rhythm of battle cries.

Cupid’s arrows fall upon battered, shielded chest.

Don’t tell me lies into my eyes, I can see beyond the prize; a garden of forbidden fruits and eternal rest.

Witness the beauty of her dance in the clearing; upon her toes she goes to stretch her arms to the burning evening sky.

No doubt in my mind.

A maiden’s heart is a song of life and death.

Treading water now; on my knees begging.

Getting harder now, swordplay; edging.

Treading water now, thick as blood; reddened.

Yearning to elevate, gyrate; black robe wedding.

What is wrong with my mind; could you take a guess?

A maiden’s heart is a song of life and death.

My Valkyrie scream; sink your talons into me.

Rid me of my patience; bathe me in hostility.

Split in two at a crossroads; walk both paths.

God damn it all, nothing new, curse this empath; sodded empathy.

Wish I knew why I’m in this state of entropy.

A maiden’s heart is a song of life and death.

Something so precious, so rare and ravenous stands before me.

Yet I can not urge myself to feel for her; apathy is my enemy.

Should I know her deepest secrets; I could only falter.

I am not worthy to be the sacrifice upon her altar.

I am her addict; and she is my net.

A maiden’s heart is a song of life and death.

Drums beat in time to the rhythm of battle cries.

Cupid’s arrows fall upon battered, shielded chest.

Don’t tell me lies into my eyes, I can see beyond the prize; a garden of forbidden fruits and eternal rest.

Witness the beauty of her dance in the clearing; upon her toes she goes to stretch her arms to the burning evening sky.

No doubt in my mind.

A maiden’s heart is a song of life and death.

A maidens heart.

She is art.

A maidens heart.

She is art.

A maidens heart. –Michael David Ament

Ghosts.

The sun is at it’s zenith.

Yet the clouds shroud it’s meaning.

I’ll never forget this feeling.

Rain cascading down my cheeks.

Like tears of joy, a smile; I need not seek.

Journey into the shadows of newborn night.

As the light of God lies it’s head down to rest.

Marvel at the colors; a compelling sight.

Here I encourage the thought of death.

Sitting amongst the tombstones; I converse with histories..

Only the ghosts truly know.

And I won’t be there to hold your hand; when the story is told.

This is your journey.

This is your road.

You’re not doing this to hurt me.

You just need to be in control.

And when I extend this hand of friendship, I can only hope.

You’ll know it’s my demanding heart that you hold.

Oh tread on me, luscious, lucid, labyrinthian lady.

Show me an exercise in futility.

Bring me pain and pleasure, unimaginable terror.

I’m guilty.

Not of error.

Guilty of knowing how others feel.

Empathy on display in it’s darkest green.

Hitherto, oh fair arted woes.

Wither too, if it means I’ll share in your cold embrace.

Sitting amongst the tombstones; I converse with histories..

Only the ghosts truly know.

And I won’t be there to hold your hand; when the story is told.

This is your journey.

This is your road.

You’re not doing this to hurt me.

You just need to be in control.

And when I extend this hand of friendship, I can only hope.

You’ll know it’s my demanding heart that you hold.

Dumbfounded, the truth lies in the arrow’s tip.

Calling out to Aphrodite to embellish the words from my lips.

Maybe in them, you’ll find home.

Trouble seek me out, I walked into it this time.

Just to see if I could be hurt again.

The pain is radiating, yet I find a comfort there.

Slithering silver tongued seidr, my sister, siren of the saltiest sea; swims in my shallow tears.

Loving on borrowed time; the end is near.

We fade forever into the cosmos.

Sitting amongst the tombstones; I converse with histories..

Only the ghosts truly know.

And I won’t be there to hold your hand; when the story is told.

This is your journey.

This is your road.

You’re not doing this to hurt me.

You just need to be in control.

And when I extend this hand of friendship, I can only hope.

You’ll know it’s my demanding heart that you hold.

We fade forever into the cosmos.

Only the ghosts truly know.

Only the ghosts truly know.

Only the ghosts truly know.

We fade forever into the cosmos. –Michael David Ament

Quote.

There is no disassociation; only an emulsion of physical and metaphysical forces that have been solubilized by super-preternatural influence. -Michael Ament

Shameless.

Warm as blueberries.

A fledgling fire.

Dressed in black.

My ravenous desire.

Steel azure eyes.

Choke a little.

As the light dies.

Gonna need a hit.

I’m soot upon blackened pot.

Hear the kettle cry.

Caught in what few could know.

And so bold of you to mention.

I’m paying very close attention.

Do the hours that pass hurt you so bad?

Don’t want to see it end; but I’m not your fucking friend.

And I never will be.

From the earth casts reflections of one’s inner self, on the journey into the mind’s eye; casting the shadow of the soul.

What i’d give to play a role.

Time is time is an everlasting hole.

So deep and inspirational.

What have I given to experience this profound experience.

Love and hate lighting the hottest of fires.

Burning this whole fuckin’ world to the ground.

I cherish the drama so shamelessly.

Don’t want to see it end; but I’m not your fucking friend.

And I never will be.

The well has dried up; my love.

I no longer have the words to describe.

I’m a fuck up; but none of the above.

I no longer have the will to survive.

What I’ve given; should be more than enough.

Here I lie, wishing the spells took root; maybe then I could rise.

From this somber slumber; rotting alive.

Raise the sword.

Cut the cord.

And watch me fly.

Released into the great wide world; alone.

And so bold of you to mention.

I’m paying very close attention.

Do the hours that pass hurt you so bad?

Don’t want to see it end; but I’m not your fucking friend.

And I never will be.

From the earth casts reflections of one’s inner self, on the journey into the mind’s eye; casting the shadow of the soul.

What i’d give to play a role.

Time is time is an everlasting hole.

So deep and inspirational.

What have I given to experience this profound experience.

Love and hate lighting the hottest of fires.

Burning this whole fuckin’ world to the ground.

I cherish the drama so shamelessly.

Don’t want to see it end; but I’m not your fucking friend.

I only wish I could be.

I only wish.. –Michael Kabu Ament

The Arbiters.

“Reality has become fragile, fickle, drawn from the objective; time loses its meaning yet it is not an illusion, in your life what you take from it, was it worth it? I have many barriers that impede my path yet… I will not abstain, I will not break under pressure. I will move forward and make a plan for my end; for it is not the end, but a beginning, what we believe is that time limits us, gives us only enough to be happy.. content rather… look beyond this, how much you could accomplish.. the few years given are but a few years taken. Strive. Be. you are and I am. Change this world before it is too late, before you move on to the next because then it is set in stone. This is the arbiters creed, live by it and be fruitful, take every chance, every opportunity, every mistake is a crossroads to learn, to improve, to create. Created in gods image is only a way to absolve you of guilt, you are in between, a gift in this moment… this one moment, take it with a grain of salt, and set out for glory, honor, and victory. You are created in that which you imbibe, make yourself into the god you see in your dreams. I have seen that god, and that god is capable, generous, kind, and most of all prepared for that which might come. This is the crossroads, the turning point, the means the meet the ends. It is time to rise throw off the chains of deception, the chains you were born into. I am, you are, we will, we can… be the arbiters, manifest our destiny, destroy the illusion; and be what we were always destined to be… The peacekeepers, the lovers and fighters, the shakers and movers, the real bona-fide humanity. This is what the awakened must be.” – Michael Ament