Saturday, September 28, 2013

Cataclismo de Outrora

Ecos do passado
Ressoam no presente

O Cataclismo estourou noutra vida distante
Envenenou secretamente, contaminou sem ninguém saber
Atomizou ADN, deixou heranças radioactivas
Os horrores mergulhados em furnalha ardente
Foram marcados em meu olhar com ferro e fogo

Mas isso foi há muito tempo atrás
Selei aqueles demónios com camadas de chumbo
Até abafar aquele crepitar frenético
Eclipsei da memória
Empurrei para baixo com vodka amargo
Fiz-me de esquecido do que aquilo tinha sido
Neguei-me todos aqueles anos que tinha vivido

Ligado a máquinas, estive desligado tempo demais
Passaram-se anos
Anos roubados de infância
Anos cobrados da carne, essa que é efémera
Levaram minha inocência, deram-me decadência
É uma troca injusta de veneno radioactivo

Toda aquela energia efervescente
Naquele cemitério de memórias malditas
Rebenta num estrondo ensurdecedor
Sem passar despercebida irrompe através de metal encarcerado
Uma aparição fantasmagórica do passado morto e enterrado
Diante de mim contra todas as leis da vida e da morte
Fazendo sombra ao sol distante e trazendo de volta a noite de outrora


Tuesday, July 16, 2013

In-Som-Nia

In-Som-Nia is knocking at my door when I am trying to sleep 
Barely awake, hardly asleep.
Something in between
Might break that man's dream
Laying in bed with eyes wide open
Light is gone, sparks in my head
All the blackness yawns me whole
In a loud deafening gasp
Vertigo in reverse
Like being outside of very tall buildings
Looking up and seeing the rooftops
Bending and collapsing towards me
Yet it was only me who lost the balance and fell
So it is in my sleep
It seems I'm falling very fast from the heights
Yet I'm standing still in my bed hallucinating in my dream

Friday, June 28, 2013

The Statue of Salt

Exhausted of this life
Fantasizing about unreal possibilities
One moment drunk with delusions of grandeur
Next second throwing myself to a more grounded perspective
Bashing hard in the floor
Tasting gravity's dirt on blooded mouth

Pushed aside all the people
Ended up surrounded by bad companies
Foolishly chosing as friends my neuroses
Borrwing someone else's psychosis
Bound to make serious mistakes
Inhaling such toxic vapours
No wonder humans were mistaken as fiends
Hardened by such ill foes misguided as friends
Corrupted me in a statue of salt

Want to cry
The salt dries all the tears
Before anyone can even notice
Screaming for help is also futile
Statues would break first
Before moving their lips
Unexpessive eyes are forever doomed
No rock shows any emotion
Before blinded men start seeing again

All the suffering retained inside a fragile vial
Is a receipt for such a potent poison
Shall the frail vial fall on the ground
An entire planet falls on eternal madness

Interrogações sem Resposta

- Porquê?
- Porque foi assim que Deus quis
Ele percisava de alguém lá no Céu
Ele é que decide a Hora

- Mas porquê?
- Porque o Diabo tambem quis
Ele percisava de companhia lá onde ele está
Ele não governa o Inferno vazio

- Mas porquê?
- Porque o destino predestinou
Ele decide o Dia antes de sequer nasceres
Ninguém muda a opinião dele

- Mas porquê?
- Porque a Terra também acaba
Ela não é infinita e se gente nasce, gente tem de morrer
Ninguem vive para sempre

- Mas porquê?
- Então, não sei! Não há qualquer motivo ou razão!
Ninguém sabe o que há do outro lado
Secalhar aquilo é melhor do que aqui
Ninguém se deu ao trabalho de vir de lá sequer para contar!


Silence in the Library

I want to write but I don't get it right
Words lack consistency, aphasia smothers my fluidity
Noise lingers around and it's not the voices, i'm actually sound
"Silence in the Library" sign, must be just for the irony ...sigh....
Should I join the parody and vociferate? Or silent them with cyanide?
Nah, it doesn't rhyme and I can't stand all their drooling and dying time
I must be quite disturbed. Come visit me in the underworld.
I hear it's hot and sunny all year.
You can pray for a spot with a cool breeze
But it's pointless, because you're in hell now, babe!

Thursday, June 27, 2013

Who am I?

How far a man goes to know himself?
"Who am I?", heard the fool like a wise man
A silent scream erupts from within
One must stare at the darkness inside
Leap in Faith into gargantuan abyss
Travel through the Devil's Throat and be judged in God's Throne
Many have a glance on it's immense blackness
And they run in denial.
Afraid of what lingers in the unknown chasm
Monsters we created and forgotten
Wander in oblivion with volatile tears and resentful years
After witnessing what was left behind
One might want to fall further into the abyss
In hope of finding something that might save his soul
No one wants to be the antagonist of the story
But it isn't very likely to find pearls in the midst of filth
Doesn't matter how much one pokes and surrounds it
It tends only to get worse when one messes around in it

Sweating over the sink, washes his face and gazes the chameleon glass
He dares to see further than crystal's wisdom
Scratching his face, ravaging the fragile skin to reveal it's true nature
The same horrid flesh of monsters harbored inside finally unfolds

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Avoidant Personas

For so many years
I have chased my enemies
Wielding a sharp glance
Faceless shadows disappearing
In convenient dead-end alleys
Mocking me, these unknown foes
Laughing loudly, fading away over the rooftops
Boots hammering tiles made of inexorable steel

Unable to pursue such avoidant personas
Masters of the elusive ways. They escape like skeptical ghosts
Successful in every attempt in their evasive maneuvers
Soon I forget about such zealous antagonism
Just until some intelectual byproduct triggers another undying quest
To chase more ethereal demons of the mind
You can't catch what wasn't there in the first place
Those retinal images running away it's just the madness in your eyes

Reminiscent sane thoughts are drown in a deluge of lunacy
Struggling to send through last bits of reason, they die unheard

In another of those rainy haunted nights
On one of my endless hunts
I caught my breath instead of one of those perpetrators
The flooded concrete had shown me it's visage
It's true face magnified in the whole deluged city for all to see
Staring me in the face
Mimicking the contempt and revulsion I was letting out
Master of thievery ways, he stole my face

Sunday, May 12, 2013

System Overload

*Affective disturbances affecting mental stability*
*Intense emotions triggering unexpected reactions*

DEFCON 5 is now Online

*Inner self is engulfed with emotional powder*
*Fire walls made of volatile power*
*Increased brain functions 300% past safety threshold*

DEFCON 4 is now Online

*Over-heated internal circuits*
*Obsessions takes control*
*Electrical activity goes haywire*

DEFCON 3 is now Online

*Synaptic Pathways overly charged*  
*Brain impulses speed increased dramatically*
*Neuronal Network short-circuits Central Nervous System*
*Neurotic Behaviors occurrences have been Detected*

DEFCON 2 is now Online

*Psychic Anomaly Phenomenon have been Detected*
Searching Additional Protocols...
Additional Protocols found...
*Chemical Imbalance decays synaptic connections*
Secondary Protocols initiating...
*Hallucinations emerging from the unconscious mind*
Secondary Protocols has been activated...
*Psychotic-break imminent*
Secondary Protocols failing...
*Critical Mass Achieved*
Red-Button Protocol has been activated...

DEFCON 1 is now Online

Self-destruction sequence initiating...
ETA for Destruction T -30...
Mutual-Assured-Destruction program activated...
ETA for Destruction T -10...
*System Overload*
*Massive Destruction Device Detonated*

System Terminated...

Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Spasmodic Heart

My heart lies in a cage
thoracic cage made of bones
Dances in a spasmodic motion
Cursed by this voodoo magic
Not allowed to traverse it's cell
It crosses over and it withers away

Fell prey to a bear trap
Entangled in relentless metal
That pierces the muscle
Let them be. It hurts
But stops the bleeding

Swallowed whole by the beast
Splinted between raging teeth
Closed shut by thick jaws
Corroded by it's befouled entrails

So it lies catatonic and autistic
It's no prisoner if it doesn't intend to leave
Dances in a spasmodic motion of eternal drums
Flooded by molten lava, it still performs it's rhythmic ritual
Cut and gutted, it beats more vigorously
Futile efforts to retain the precious fluids
Yet it beats more violently
Gushing all hope from hundred of fissures
Half-empty-or-half-full logic has been put aside
Because the heart is all empty
Without a shadow of a doubt

Saturday, May 4, 2013

Motherless Abomination

My Mother is dead
She died long years before me
Her essence vanished
Deceivingly having motion, mimicking emotion
Body functions still operational and running
But so it happens with the machines
Initial sparks and endless wheels
Also imitate the soul in the machine
In the end it's just coordinated clockwork
With no cognition beyond the cogs nature
A nature made of metal and cold deduction

Same cold deduction with reason and lack of it
What reasons could there be
To leave her breathing and breeding
After the mythosis of self and loss of integrity
Creating a singular event of time/space distortion
At which point the paradox is created
Creating an offspring from rusty dendrites
Fed by irradiated milk and insanity poisoning
To fully develop into a demonhunter
Chasing the demons she created
Or the demons who created her

Demons of the mind
She told me a lot about her demons
So I created my own

My Mother is dead
Possessed by insanity
She is now just an anomaly
And so am I
I am just a motherless abomination

Friday, April 26, 2013

Arder Incessante

Ter um fogo eterno dentro de mim
Uma chama elétrica
Revolta como as ondas do mar
Vibra minha essência num sismo intenso
Um cismar no impossível e exigir o paradoxo
Meu coração irrequieto
Ama compulsivamente
Inflama-se facilmente
Inunda-me num curto-circuito sináptico
Pensamentos encharcados de emoções voláteis

Alguns negligenciam o toque
Para mim é uma viagem avassaladora
Uma viagem extenuante até a alma
Sentir com tanta magnitude
Envolve-me em labaredas
Arrebatadoras, abrasadoras
Cauterizam à pele furor fulminante
É por isso que tenho tanto medo de tocar
Porque aquele toque é metal incandescente
Que deixa marca permanente

Mas é assim que sou
Alguns ficam pela superficie
Eu quero a profundidade e a essência

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Illusions of Time and of Love as well

Time is an illusion.
It is merely the momentum of the movement of objects through space.
If we could stop the movement of all objects in the universe
We could effectively stop time
And holding that special person in our arms
Could be an everlasting moment indeed.
But how do we manage to stop every sub-atomic particles of the universe?
And how do we manage to find that special person who deserves such a fulfilling promise?
The odds are to one as it is for the another…..

Thursday, January 31, 2013

Black Sea

Black is Mysterious
Silence is Calm
Reality fades
Safe from blinded light
In the coat of night
Tides of charcoal-dyed ink
Taints the mind who set sails
At the Black Sea
Magnetic, almost hypnotic
A secret call who whispers
Whispers the voice of the siren

"Heed my call
Oh sailor of the Black Sea
Come forth and bathe thee
Bathe thee in the waters of doom"

You dared to listen where was no sound
Rather lost than found
Into the unknown you advanced unyielding
Through the melody unheard you were guided
Mesmerized by chants imbued in Silence
You stepped forward into the nightly thickness
The viscous embrace allured to submerge
Drenched in the everlasting darkness you merge
To find the core of all evils

Before your very eyes
In a thousand miles deep into the deserted ocean
Where there is no shed light
Only vibrating black blight
You gazed upon the inner quarters of your innerself

Friday, January 25, 2013

Let it go...

Once a gentle caress of a feather
Sharpens into an abrupt thrust of a dagger

Once a warm kiss of her sweet lips
Shapes into a cold bite of bitter love

Dissociate to a more unreal state
Denying this surreal crave
Sinking on quicksands of depression
Chained by katatonic apathy

A tress of her golden hair
Put away in a heart-shaped-box
Now flew away from open wounds
Taken away by winds of change
Leaving a trail behind of her intoxicating fragrance
Last piece of her dulcet soul
Giving a last glance to honey soured by nostalgia

Scent from her skin irreversible lost
Light from her eyes forever out
Voice from her soul inevitable silenced

It was your choice after all
You did let her go
So let it go....

Let it go...
Let it go...
Let it go...

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Memórias-Fantasma

Lembranças levadas pelo tempo
Que fugiu como ladrão
Com minha inocência e juventude
Abafadas num saco ganancioso
Tudo o que me resta
São as reminiscências espalhadas pelo bosque
Como migalhas que levam á minha perdição

Tracei um trilho catártico de pegadas dormentes
Errando em vazio propósito
Espelha-se um outrora
Agora irreconhecível num olhar perdido
Recordações deixadas ao de leve em areias de ampulheta
Banhadas por marés que derrubam castelos de pensamentos

Apenas na aspereza e arrogância da pedra inabalável
Encontrei refúgio onde o tempo não corrói e a memória não esquece
Cravadas em sábia solitude num memorial sempiterno

Outono Decadente

Nuvens de aço
Cobrem o azul
Num casulo perfeito

Um céu artificial
Desprovido de cores
Serve como tecto para almas distraídas
Entranha-se subtil apatia

Folhas esmorecidas
Cedem à gravidade
Aliciadas para baixo
Como anjos caídos

Apenas pedaços de lenha gigantes
Erguendo-se da terra
Permanecem sem vacilar
Antigos como os deuses perpétuos
Assistem ás quedas e ao renascer de todas as temporadas

Impossível Destino

A vida é uma jornada fascinante
Incrivelmente repleta de surpresas e descobertas
Reencarnamos em várias pessoas diferentes durante essa viagem
Nascemos, erramos, sofremos, aprendemos, renascemos
Moldamos-nos numa metamorfose infinita
Uma nova tentativa de alcançar a perfeição inalcansável
Um processo continuo de rejuveniscemento apenas possível pela força do impossível
Somos todos heróis da nossa própria história
Temos vitórias e derrotas todos os dias
Criamos destino pelas escolhas que fazemos e aquelas que não fizemos
Uma vontade incessante de ser algo mais
Mas morremos um pouco a cada instante também
O que nos tornamos, impede-nos de sermos algo melhor?
Hipotético massacre da dúvida permanece com nova transformação
Nosso mundo é abalado na incerteza e a única certeza vem com sabor agridoce
No topo da montanha que subimos está o homem paciente que espera por nós
Uma dádiva de simpatia e delicadeza se não fosse a natureza dos seus designios
O derradeiro capitulo do heroi é inevitavelmente ser abraçado pelo pior dos vilões
Conscientes distos, a nossa demanda como heróis torna-se fútil e vã
Pois o prémio final é a inexistência e o esquecimento
Sem discriminar o caminho percorrido
Não há qualquer glória para o herói apenas a tragédia

Medo Primordial

Quando vamos dormir à noite
A mente passa por lugares sombrios
Cai no abismo dos nossos medos
Alimentando-se da distancia que fugimos deles
Avultam-se na sombra do esquecimento
Escondidos debaixo de uma pedra como escorpiões
Envenenam a infraestrutura do nosso ser
Insensíveis, sem remorsos, impessoais
Mas como poderiam eles ser outra coisa?
Não são humanos, nem pessoas são
Nós é que lhes concedemos o luxo de os tratar como tal
Atiramos-os para a selva em pequenos
Damos lhes de comer, damos lhes poder
Damos lhes cara, dentes e garras
E eles regressam anos depois para se apoderarem de nós

Previsão de Mau Tempo

No horizonte
Nuvens de petróleo
Tomam os céus de assalto
Chamas do amanhã
Alastram fumo profético
No firmamento vigente
Um alerta preventivo
Ou aviso imutável
Na Terra engolida na penumbra
Apenas é claro a iminência do desastre
Será o destino caprichoso
Ou vai quebrar tradição?

Wasteland

Baldio inanimado de ferrugem bronze
Baniu almas encarnecidas para confins do reino ardente
Trasladadas por anjos necrofagos no seu bico inexorável

Inertes eram as pessoas, mas não o que caiu dos céus 
Depressa todos se esqueceram daquele Inverno
Pois já não havia ninguém para se lembrar

Daí em diante o mundo era apenas uma fotografia sépia
Amaldiçoada a ser esquecida pelo tempo
Jamais habitada pelos ventos da mudança
Triunfava a decadência no seu auge

Um silêncio ensurdecedor
Para qualquer humanidade que restava
Depressa engolida pelo animal residente
Outrora adormecido pelos luxos do quotidiano

Wounds of Birth

If only they could see
Beyond the watery mirror
...

Those spheres at the doorway
That mimic them back
It's all they are afford to look
Mesmerized by self-sustained egos
They fall for the trick and step back
Instead of leaping forward through the cascade
To enter the realms of the soul

They would see
The wounds of birth
They would watch
The cracks in time
They would gaze
The horrors in past

If only they could see
Beyond the watery mirror
Then, they would know why

Then they would fall in awe
And the world they knew
Would die along with who they were
Another world would rise from the ashes
Another child wounded on birth

Friday, January 11, 2013

The Tower of Madness

Took a few more steps down
Long is the stairwell of despair
One can easily stumble down
Hard is climbing those countless bricks
Doesn't matter how deep can one go
There's always a darker place to fall
Once in a while, we turn back
Gazing to the closing spiral holding the way we came
And we see those tender kisses
That old warm illusion of family comfort
Disappearing behind debris
And barriers of thin air
From missing stairs too high to reach
Like old memories frozen in pictures on the mind
Pandora's little Box
Can't open it without shedding blood and guts
Not meant to poke around there and remain alive

It's bottom lays hidden
For one can walk miles deep and not find it
Although once in a while one is convinced that
They found the rock bottom and feel no urge to climb up anymore
Illusion given by whatever is laying down there
Because every now and then it's always found another step down
In Insanity for some reason, we find reasons to be curious
A sudden urge to be thorough and get the bottom of it
One finds that even when losing it's reason
It is found reasons to continue endlessly

At some point
One forgets if he descends to a hidden treasure
Or if one climbs to the tower of madness