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Decompositions - Vol 1, Chapter 1 : Rites of Initiation | paroles / lyrics

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Decompositions - Vol 1, Chapter 1 : Rites of Initiation - Circle Takes The Square

album  : Decompositions - Vol 1, Chapter 1 : Rites of Initiation
groupe : Circle Takes The Square
sortie   : 2011

+ paroles Circle Takes The Square


Enter By The Narrow Gates

["All Hope Abandon Ye Who Enter Here." -Dante, The Inferno]

Bring forth the Light,
To raze colonies
In a single cleansing breath.
Don't sleep, my queen;
The sun rises one less time
Than it will set.
Now overhead, the stars
That guided our forebears
Have turned to dust.
And underfoot, the churning
Framework of this earth
Succumbs to rust.

Bring forth the Light.

These dreams of Thunder displace,
Dismantled spirit's burnt bare-
Sylphs in the shards resounding,
"Open to the Field!"
Depatterned, floating in Grace,
Mapping the fragments...
"For to awaken and reassemble,
Enter by the narrow gates."

All has been inscribed
In the footnotes of time,
From the rising dead
To the falling rains;
From these proving grounds
To the burial mounds
Of fallen satellites'
Skeletal remains.

From a timeworn note's
Subtle feeling-tone,
To the coiled scales
In this mistaken mode.
Felt the birch bark walls
Of the temple shake,
When those who from heaven,
To this earth came.

From Eleusia
To the Killing Fields;
From the Promised Land
To the coming plague;
From the trenches of
Every whispered war,
To the future wreckage
Of the Large Array.

For the gate is wide,
And the way is broad,
That delivered me
(Insufferable in-between)
From the fleeting dawn
To this endless night,
In the labyrinth
Of the Iron Kings.

Now my footsteps take precedence as the traffic sounds fade,
And this city's lungs have purged their last breath.
I'm held captive at the curb before the World's End Lane,
Where I pledge my self to uncertainty.
From this shattered breaking point each new step must be
Nothing short of the saddest act of sorcery.
In search of that fleeting adversity,
O, merciless emptiness, that used to possess me...

So farewell Persephone, at rest on the altar,
Who dared to merge stone with the skies.
What curses of men guard the bridges you built, dear ?
What doorways, what star-gates have you left behind ?
So I'm following stardust, what's left of the twilight,
To get to that last jagged line.
To the edge of the earth by the age of rebirth.
I'll dissolve, end this realm, and reclaim what is mine.

Take in the knitting air,
Part with the cleansing breath,
Destiny turns the soils in which we manifest.
Suffer the burning coals,
Yield to the spiral tides,
Peer into the darkness, that all may be defined.

Spirit Narrative

Stalking the formless
Collapse,
She strings me along...
Vapor trails,
Disappearing tracks;
Entanglement unwinds
In threads of golden error.
What strange attractors ahead,
Lie awake in wait ?

Crossing this fertile
Expanse,
To commune with the life-less...
Spirit narrative,
Rite of passage;
Progress is paralysis
When poison is my path.
I'm laid to rest,
Just to rise again.

Hell-bent circuits-
Shadows speak through the frequencies.
Heaven-sent asylum-
One psychotic break and the veil recedes.
Channeling devastating
Revelations of the method

From the other side of Somewhere.
From the endless halls of Elsewhere.

In some mythic story arc I wake;
Hand pick your pleasure, feast, then fall from grace.

Fabled
Decline;
Within
The text
Resides
My next
Shape Shift
Time Slip.

Listless,
When the hammer drops.
To be still,
When the narrative breaks down.
Holding centre
Under shelter
Of this altered state.
At rest,
In the restlessness
That was forged
In this state of changing phase.
All structure failing:
God's forsaken sanctuary.

In field of view
Her solid state
Our passing tryst
Just melts away
Sublimate
The Great Divide
The Grand Design
Defected
Solidify
The Great Divide
Our cells collide
The Grand Design

Deserted-
Demiurges running free.
Arcing archangels-
Only resonate out of sympathy.
Summoning shocking
Demonstrations of the method

From the chambered heart of Nowhere
(Where the feedback feeds on echoes).

Baiting the feral
Demise,
On the heels of Culture...
Another crippling analysis,
Unraveled
Dreams now interpret me,
At the trail's end of this
False Awakening.

Way Of Ever-Branching Paths

["Reality is not always probable, or likely." -Jorge Luis Borges]

At your doorstep
Cloaked in negative space
First frost aches
To lay its claim

At the threshold
Between without and within
First foot prints
Disgrace the virgin soil
Ignoring refusal
Let the winter in
Indian Summer
Defiant forever
Let winter have its way

Through hollow insides
Made of branching halls
First step falls

Vanishing reasons
I chose this course
Death is in season
Inward to source
INITIATION
Vanishing reasons
I chose this course
DISINTEGRATION
Death is in Season
Step inside...
One thousand faces
Stare back from their fractured origin

In turn
Turn another corner
And lose my place
A blue print for disorder
The Way of Disarray

Backward glare
Burnished obsidian walls
Reflect the endings
That will never...

Unfold
Fold the corners over
To hold my place
The panic feels so familiar
In a breath-work maze

Clear the air
Ceremonial smoke rings
Fill the creases
Where the trauma collects

You better keep your thought forms clean
How we, the Conjured, seek
To breach the compass of this dream

Illumination
Elimination
Tangental slipstreams
Derail our train of thought
Stationed in fog
Composing
Decompositions
In constant revision
Infinite indecision
Encaged
Within a finite space

Help me hide it away
Under thin coats of cracking paint
Under smothering soundscapes
Where every layer I've made
Competes for a place

Enchanting parlor tricks
And slights of hand
Made me a god
Here in obscurity
Confined to making believe

So help me wish it away...
But how long
Yeah, how long
Before I'd beg to bring it back into life ?
To bring it into the blue grey
The Grey matters
Matters of the Maker

Mark and Measure
Locus of control
Order, theorized
Crooked, our belief
In the straight line

Leave room for failure
One fatal mistake
That human touch
Planning its own obsolescence

The scent of senescence
Permeates

Our vast potential
Fated to fade
Our monuments
Willing its own expiration

Ground to powder
Chaos, improvised
Stolen fire
Blessed are the thieves
In these end times

Distill it down into a single line
Meet the demands of the mountainside
Compromise is such a loaded word
When landslides are singing

Hermetic melodies
Only we could hear
We clutch the chords
Forgotten anthems reappear

Encoded messages
Only we could speak
In native tongues
Ancient strains have gone to seed

Entangled crossroads
Only we could see
Beyond the fear
Our new creation will be gleaned

From the wastelands
Of the insincere
Winged beauty she looms
Inside a derelict cocoon

Inspiration strikes
Under flashing flood lights
Winged beauty emerge
To search this tortured world for new growth
Resurface, Recreate, and Redeem

Shades
Of night
Blossoming
Within

These Laced
Pathways
Of Hekate's
Garden

Retrace
Mind streams
Following
Her lead

Wellsprings
Whispering

The Rites of
INITIATION
I chose this course
DISINTEGRATION
Inward to source
PREVERBERATIONS
Follow the stations
Through branching halls
ANNIHILATION
Fever breaks my fall

Dionysus, good heavens
You've gone to pieces
In search of closure, you went within...
Everything and Nothing
Clashed
In counter movements,
Rotating spins-
A dream,
A dream
And nothing more.

Chart the startling curves
Of your dementia
(No way out)
Map the staggering depths
Of one dimension
(No way out)
Like clockwork witchcraft
One must suffer to pass
Suffer to Pass
Like clockwork witchcraft
My dreams now abandon me
Suffer To Pass

In time, you'll add my shadow
To your overspilling urn
And match my every move
Step for step, turn for turn

Reclaimed by a destiny I revoked
A trajectory, resigned
Writhing
In surrender
Storm clouds gather in this altered state

Hard-wired
To the recklessness of perception
Bathed in artificial light
Steeped in fabricated time
Storm clouds gather in this altered state

Ever-spinning,
The Great Wheel:
Void of progress.

Ever-Branching,
The Great Work:
Grieve the dying
Dying art
Art of process

Tunnel visions
Wander without aim
Through the Gauntlet.

Spirit Guides,
Forward Exits-
Disembodied nights
Shrouded in war paint;
Losing mind
To behold
The Other side

The Ancestral Other Side

["He who dies before he dies, does not die when he dies" -Abraham of Santa Clara]

Take hold
If we fall before we fall, we do not fall when we fall through
Take hold
If we fall before we fall, we do not fall when we
Take hold
If we fall before we fall, we do not fall
Take hold
If we fall before we fall, we do

There are forces at work here beyond
This Realm of Self in which we reside
A call to consciousness with no response
Another view from that vanquished other side

May this healing crisis
Unmask the faceless
All those who occupied my peripheries

(Fever Builds)
Silent flakes of snow bite your tongue
Until their angles and hardlines grow soft
Atomic winter, a drifting dormant sun
Boundaries and bridges all a blur
Your life spans, my disconnected dots
(Fever Breaks)

May this healing crisis
Make known the nameless
Who colonized my soul
When the other side took hold

Hiding in a healer's
Sacred heart, the worst disease-
Caverns of atria,
Black holes of empathy.

Where pale and distant
Shapes made of shadow speak
Forms in a feedback loop
Of abandoned memory...

Allied in our open wounds,
We bleed venom and wild flowers bloom,
They give way
To the side-winding vine,
To the brambles of time.
Love's first creation was loss.

Red-shifted horizon looms,
Echo chamber of self-imposed solitude
Mass and weight fall away
My true nature escapes
What was boundless now stands consumed.

Refiner's Fire
Ancestral Flame
MAKER OF LIGHT
Radial Voices
Recursive Planes

Engaging only this moment,
While the patterns erase
Mandalic sand
BATHED IN BLOODLINES
A desperate plea to stay present,
In the ember's embrace

Non-attachment retreats
In a pillar of steam
Another mantra in splinters
At the Maker's feet
Precepts deconstructed,
Focus, going astray
I refuse to Burn
Falling Forward

Through fevered visions,
Silence devouring its own tail.
Unbroken circle,
Grant us the crisis needed to heal,
Through fevered visions,
Silence devouring its own tail.
Unbroken circle,
Grant us the crisis needed to heal


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