Abyssal Unbecoming

Lyrics

Beneath the last convulsion of a dying star, I descend—unmoored from the tyranny of form, Where thought dissolves like frost on a blackened tongue, And time folds inward, devouring its own spine. No dawn has ever whispered here. No memory dares persist. I am the severance— The unnameable fracture in the mirror of being, Where self unthreads into a choir of voids, Each voice chanting the liturgy of absence. O Eternal Night— Cathedral of unlight, womb of annihilation— Receive this dwindling echo of identity, This flicker that once dared to call itself “I.” Flesh is a forgotten dialect. Soul, an obsolete superstition. In the abyssal silence, I am undone— Not slain, but unmade, Dispersed into the cold infinity between thoughts, Where existence is but a rumor long extinguished. Black tides rise within the marrow of nothingness, Carrying me beyond the last boundary of perception, Into a kingdom where shadows consume even themselves, And darkness is crowned by deeper darkness still. No gods dwell here. No suffering lingers. Only the immaculate absence— The pure, indivisible zero of all that was, And all that shall never be. I surrender the burden of presence. I relinquish the wound of consciousness. And in this final unraveling— I become the night eternal.