Testo di 'Blood Simple' di Detrimentum

How can one have become, so embittered?
Fallen foul to such a feeling of absolute horror,
The definitive hue of aversion now envisioned,
And saturated by a sensation of uncontrollable sickness,

Having inspired emetic emission,
The body, emanating the mind's disgust,
Is driven deeply into avulsion, ones own blood is now spilt,
The soul exacting pure odium, for it's belonging to humanity.

Dream beyond this world of flesh!
Or fall in its despair!

This flesh which surrounds me,
It mortifies me, it horrifies me,
It seals me within contempt,
Like an iron wrought cage,

Encapsulated by despondency,
Apathy forcing man-kind to embrace with its frailty's
Emotional, moral deformity
Now binding, tethered by shackles of mortal fears and anguish,
Dysfunctional values promoting putrid will ascendancy.

Strain of turmoil,
A bonding of Inferiority,
A mortal downfall,
The simplicity of an organism,

As expendable bundles of cells,
We are twisted into form,
Animate sculptures that personify,
The pointless nature,
Blinkered, incompetent and vain,

Within me I have found,
A thirst for the bleedings of enlightenment,
No voice bridled to entice such trust,
No lip gilded to elate such tragedy,

Misconception or timely failure?

Mortified by the effluvium of saturated adipose tissues,

The world turns like my stomach,
At the stench of these foul wounds.
I disdain the appalling mass,
A populace in engulfed in its degradation,
Edging towards a certain conclusion,
The construction of the cataclysm now complete!

Respirating annihilation,
Prevention now unable to clinch the inconsolable veins in desperation,
And at last failing the attempt to staunch the grim wounds,
Running like narrow paths through persistent ruin,
Accumulative rivulets of myriad cruelty's pooling an impending mental flood,

A bleeding edge beheld and pouring desensitisation to our moral depths,
It is blood now reunited with an abundance of tears,
Those fallen to obscurity, all souls encircled within patterns of pain,
Lacerating ribbons of malformation, a chemical trust benign,

Can nature define chemical clarity?,
Should mortal lives be judged in the same way?
For you're impure sons and your wretched daughters,
Are ridden with pestilence and perform acts of disdain,
Should they follow the path of the exemplary?
Should their feigned perfections, weave their own folly?