The Entropic Hive by Arria Paetus Lyrics

Quote from the song “The Entropic Hive” by Arria Paetus

Laying neath the serpent's coil
In a sickly pleasant nest of order and debris
Wrapped in the husks of conquered pasts
Cold in the hollow shells of their memory
Another night met with grimace and blade
But encountered only by drunks and their tired shame
Grown sick of the acetic breath of beasts
Sour and spoiled with failing ability
They trifle within their safe boundaries
Scared of the stare of any true challenge
Sightless and wild like startled bats
Emaciated and weak from lurking in caves

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Perfect Lyrics of the Song “The Entropic Hive” Released in 2016

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Laying neath the serpent's coil
In a sickly pleasant nest of order and debris
Wrapped in the husks of conquered pasts
Cold in the hollow shells of their memory
Another night met with grimace and blade
But encountered only by drunks and their tired shame
Grown sick of the acetic breath of beasts
Sour and spoiled with failing ability
They trifle within their safe boundaries
Scared of the stare of any true challenge
Sightless and wild like startled bats
Emaciated and weak from lurking in caves

This vacant place of lazy cowards and mental disease
A single track monotony of incompletion and insanity
Treading impatient around the keep of these transient things
Surrounded by incompetent beings slithering with gluttony
Fat and ugly, full of ignorance and wasteful breaths
Functionless organs filled with shit and despairing

Lumbering things spouting whimpers and whines
Patterned creatures, wallowing in familiar pools

Discontented with the conquered space
Strewn with thin carcass and empty gaze
I've come overarmed for their mediocrity
Draped with the flayed skins of slaughtered fates
Decorated with the triumphs of unconquerable hostility
Bland and squandered minds found dripping away
The long scalps of severed pursuits stare expectantly
Winding elegantly round the wrist
Warm without joy in the tedium of present
The corpses of control rotating through their days
Encrusted with the bone shards of broken trials
Shattered bits of spent fists finding nothing to hold
Unchallenged in an arena of aging sloth
Misshapen candidates slink back to their squalor
Bored with the spectacle of chained cattle grazing circles bare
I gaze back to the beast's endless black
Awaiting the brush of the dark's burning scales
Yearning for its transforming scorch
Within its spinning teeth a purpose

The close of dimming fears

And longing like suicide for the grace of destruction
Hunched and starved like a dog
The wounds and wisdom come forth slowly
Only in the depths of utter vicissitude