1. |
Under an Eternal Mirage
24:53
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Gathered like every full moon night
Around the genuflected man shaped stone
Its glow the sole light besides flame
That’s yet to forsake our kind
Its face painted sharp an everlasting moan
We sing for our memories to live on
Atop the buried coin and metal that we once hoarded
That long ago lost its worth
So we join the figure in its sacred moan
We bury the trees and we bury the stream
For no one can now wash away our shame
We cry in the name of our sin
Forlorn are the times of excess
Long gone are the days of the hive, coated in gold
The newborn now open their eyes
To the arid plains of tomorrow
No flowers grow on the metal carcass
No waters fall on our empty husks
Without path or purpose or light to guide us
Time and again we baptize the soil with our entrails
In heartbroken ceremony
Callous, ignorant conception!
Black, gluttonous orifice!
We were born from a wish
And from the wish was born too
A world almost impregnable
Where all that was born from us is denied
From a time where wisdom laid in ink not song
Remained the scrolls beneath dust and wood
The silhouettes dance gracefully on the script
Ancient theories, unsigned
Speak of this world viscous and pure
Long forgotten is the name
We had given to the language of scripts
Yet eternal is its force
As the signs are born from purpose
Taken by their ancient allure
Daring to take in the grace
The silhouettes make their way from the scrolls
To the eyes
The mouth
The heart
Of the unsuspecting
And with a sole heartbeat, spellbound, propels its life to sacrality
An instant forever burning
With the fury of a billion dreams
Swayed by the waterfalls sparking with sapphire
Corneas ablaze with the refracting satellites divine
The soil stretches its loving arms
The flora’s embrace overtakes
A landscape that bears no breathing forms but itself
The ever perpetuating majesty speaks
Stacking layers unending, its harmony so mystifying
Drowning, fluorescence, a holy script
Contains the last sentence for men
To never taste this holiness
To forget their foundation
Sand survives their frail creation
And their dreams lay malformed inside Tendre’s womb
One with the divine,
One with the sand, each like a grain
Dreams eroded trapped inside
Frozen tears in the temples of angels
Our kind holds on, we are vines on the ruin’s fallen walls
Swarmed by Tendre’s eternal ephemera
Filled the muscle like cement
With Mouth open, petrified glow
Stands the figure through the years
We gather every full moon crying
For we are the children of the shadows
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2. |
Projected in the Sky
27:59
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ruego Berlin, Germany
Institution set to represent the experiences of those who testify to an encounter with the essential realm, Tendre, through
field documentation, testimonials, conversations, and works that are aesthetically and poetically infused by said encounter.
//founded in 2k19
... more
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