The Omega Syndicate

by SwampGoat

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released January 22, 2014

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Track Name: Carried Upon a Dirge, My Dismal Death
The end of the road has finally come
My body lay still
My mind becomes numb
I think of times
The glorious past
My final breath comes
Dismal silence at last
This is my dirge
Remember me if you will
In the end
I don’t fucking care
Track Name: The Omega Syndicate
I can hear them yelling, from streets to rooftops
That the end is coming
That the syndicate has arrived
As if Jesus himself had appeared,
The mob descends to their knees
Begging for Omega
Praying for the stars to align
In the end, there is no pity
Only curiosity
Why does humanity always seek the end?
Judge all things except for themselves
Awaiting the end-times without doubt
Track Name: Duality (A Reading)
There is land beyond Death

Far above the broken hopes

Past the tangled vines of dream

Wings of honor guide the journey

Virtue remaining the last ambition

Servitude, the greatest mortal coil

Solace found only in the last expiration

A keeper stands at the gate, foreboding judgment

Oblique is his grin, with eyes that pierce the veil of intention

In his left hand, a gnarled oaken staff

In his right, Spiritus Mundi flows like an open wound

Seeping whispers conflicting faith and logic

The words of grace exalt the soul as entry is permitted

Quenched from above, providing nourishment from below

Transitioning flesh into bone, and bone into nothingness

Life would appear to have dispersed this place

But only consciousness has faded into obscurity

Human Anatomy recycled into the earth, flourishing new life

Energy transferred into the cosmos

A discovery that Man has not been privileged
Track Name: Degenerate Hooves
Created in his image
I kneel onto the ground

Embrace the beast within
I am gifted with hooves
Track Name: Becoming the Godhead
I raise my hands to the sky
Withered, prepared to die
Final thoughts through my mind
Flow slowly into mist
That shields my eyes
My truth has never felt so real

Gaze upon me, Judas
For I am your shadow
Condescending right from wrong
To the lions I throw my soul
Trumpeters play no more