Eviscerate Divine
from The Long Road Home by Iapetus
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CD Digipak + Poster Bundle (50% OFF!)
Compact Disc (CD) + Digital AlbumIncludes:
- 4-panel CD Digipak of "The Long Road Home"
- Signed 11"x17" Poster (Limited Edition)
All artwork created by Xenoyr of Ne Obliviscaris.
Note: Poster will be folded during shipment.
Includes unlimited streaming of The Long Road Home via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.Sold Out
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Poster/Print- Signed 11"x17" Poster (Limited Edition)
All artwork created by Xenoyr of Ne Obliviscaris.
Note: Poster will be shipped in tube.ships out within 7 days1 remainingPurchasable with gift card$5 USD or more
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CD Digipak (50% OFF!)
Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album- 4-panel CD Digipak of "The Long Road Home"
Includes unlimited streaming of The Long Road Home via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.Sold Out
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lyrics
A painter in constant creation;
His palette blood, his brush violence.
With each pass of brush on canvas
A wound to his prophetic hand.
Instruments of progress are the tools demise;
The pinnacle of expression is death.
And his heart beats to passing brush;
A gentle touch to its rugged flesh.
As minutes lengthen into years,
He sees how his life has passed him;
Filled with longing, bathed in tears.
Circumspect bloodshed;
Profligate existence.
His work concludes, crafted in troth,
Being brutal and elegant both.
Order made from chaos and chaos from serenity.
The masterpiece is divine, destructive, but different than expected;
It cannot coexist with its maker;
And at the final stroke, art annihilates the artist.
As minutes lengthen into years,
He sees how his life has passed him;
Filled with longing, bathed in tears.
A dreamer,
A thinker,
All for naught.
Sustenance and meaning
Is all that he sought.
He will not be released
From the nightmare he's conceived.
There is no redemption for his soul
When destiny meets demise.
Twas not his nightmare in his art;
His art reflected who we are.
His palette blood, his brush violence.
With each pass of brush on canvas
A wound to his prophetic hand.
Instruments of progress are the tools demise;
The pinnacle of expression is death.
And his heart beats to passing brush;
A gentle touch to its rugged flesh.
As minutes lengthen into years,
He sees how his life has passed him;
Filled with longing, bathed in tears.
Circumspect bloodshed;
Profligate existence.
His work concludes, crafted in troth,
Being brutal and elegant both.
Order made from chaos and chaos from serenity.
The masterpiece is divine, destructive, but different than expected;
It cannot coexist with its maker;
And at the final stroke, art annihilates the artist.
As minutes lengthen into years,
He sees how his life has passed him;
Filled with longing, bathed in tears.
A dreamer,
A thinker,
All for naught.
Sustenance and meaning
Is all that he sought.
He will not be released
From the nightmare he's conceived.
There is no redemption for his soul
When destiny meets demise.
Twas not his nightmare in his art;
His art reflected who we are.
credits
from The Long Road Home,
released March 14, 2017
license
all rights reserved
tags
about
Iapetus
"Where does the weight of the Universe lie..."
discography
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Nov 2019 -
Mar 2017 -
Jul 2012 -
Nov 2011
contact / help
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