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Bystanders

by Lochrian Poem

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1.
Disclosure 02:14
2.
Is it ever enough? Have you ever noticed how one enjoys the colours of autumn? How the sweetest images are made from the suffering of thousands of species of another programed death? How we condense it all in a vessel, the body of a child made of light, of golden leaves, radiating. At the end of all hope Lies the edge of the vessel In its fullness - its beauty - We’re allowed to gaze At the end of all hope Where the end gives birth To the sweetest swansong We are blessed to behold At the end of all hope Life transcends into art And the endless colours of death Sweeten the canvas At the end of all hope We refuse to see Anything but beauty In its deepest meaning. And as the child runs through the sweetest meadows of heaven we are ignorant of the fact that its birth was given by fates more cruel than any other exchange for a new life. All life must be paid but is there a limit to the price? This child is the only meaning I could find in all these years. So I try to grow it no matter the price. The price will be paid anyway with or without the child; so all that’s left is to write about some beautiful landscapes of dying nature. All life must be paid but is there a limit to the price? At the end of all hope Lies the edge of the vessel In its fullness - its beauty - We’re allowed to gaze At the end of all hope Where the end gives birth To the sweetest swansong We are blessed to behold At the end of all hope Life transcends into art And the endless colours of death Sweeten the canvas At the end of all hope We refuse to see Anything but beauty In its deepest meaning. All life must be paid but is there a limit to the price?
3.
Disconnect 07:26
У меня вот душа Aştept să se-ntâmple ceva Desprins У меня вот душа Спрашивая Nimic nu are glas Plutesc У меня вот душа Inspir Моё сердце - окно Mă scufund У меня вот душа И моя жизнь ушла И всё потому что здесь У меня вот душа И не вижу конца
4.
Absence 10:24
Absence was my eternal companion as I grew with it by my side always lurking, always feeding on me. Living like this turns you to stone I struggle to comprehend missing you. I only know that among the stars I gaze at, i'm insignificant, that the willows under which we gaze at eachother are mere reflections of what the world almost never means. In this darkened pit this wound of the sun i cradle my ashes as i fade away among the roots of my dearest visions I scream as the crows feast on my chest. You were too sick to ever heal thyself you were too sick... Sometimes I gather all my writings I frame them with withered leaves I let the frost in to paint my sullen walls erase my heart from the madhouse. My movements are those of shivernig dolls swiming through thick, dark air towards a hand of light to cut the cord. My spine is greatly injured by all those useless memories I have to carry in order to save some ephemeral words that I cling to. You were too sick to ever heal thyself you were too sick...
5.
Stand By 08:18
As he was driving He witnessed the horror She was still alive Still trying to get off the road Crawling to the opposite lane. It all happened fast and the next car came followed by another, and another one. (followed by another, and another one.) He didn’t watch. He could not stop and do something about it. ...at least ’tis what I tell myself. I know you were expecting someone else. But, in fact, this is what I fear most. What I already am. What you already are. A new species of passive beings. I didn’t watch. I didn’t have the time to stop and do something about it. This is why he watched the full moon and punched the seats of my car Because he witnessed that helpless, hopeless suffering and I could (or would) do nothing (at all). Don’t know if she survived (please, Schrödinger, oh, please) and I don’t know which is worse. She may have kept on living, crippled, in a world of misery. I was raised to love all souls, and I mostly do. But I’ve also learned to defend myself with the thickest walls of lethargy. This is why I watched the full moon and punched the seats of my car. As I was driving I witnessed something horrible And I stood by.
6.
Babel 03:35
I’ve made a promise and another promise I’ve stacked them: A Babel to reach the skies But the skies keep getting higher as I get weaker
7.
Third Path 12:00
Sit cozy by the hearth and listen to the distant echoes they scream of you they are your own voice. Who are you? Who could you have been? Here lies the door that could split reality. The axe hanging by a thread above your head is breathing. Split! You are now two beings cast out in separate dimensions. You don’t know about eachother anymore An exemplary life he had by this age. But the ocean of life was gray threatening to bury him alive tormenting him - little had meant his life He sometimes watched the nightsky and whispered to himself „you fool, no man can live like this”. All life has led me here Never had a soul to love Never had a soul to worry For me, or me for them. Never had a soul to love Never had a soul to worry. I lived life to the fullest Ignored every rule Got rid of every friend, dedicated my life to art. No wealth, no health No comfort just the joy of pure, unhindered creation marks my years. Everything is empty nothing worth investing time in I forgot how to live like a man I’m now a beast of stench. Only art is left a cauldron of despair an empty gaze there’s holes in my mind but the dream may be fulfilled. In all these ashes I have wandered Barefoot and bleeding Would a life of nostalgia have been better? I sometimes watch the nightsky and whisper to myself „you fool, no man can live like this”. By now we know The two worlds are alike No universe is alone Each opposite has a match A common ground A common gust of regret. And no matter how much we wish not even god has walked a third path.
8.
9.
without a word without even a trace something vanished from the house of my mind leaving me abandoned and free I’ve been struggling to find out if it was you if it was your shadow, your memory but I never did so one day when my shoes were long gone I left this house I left its door open and under the grey, crooked trees I limped with joy I licked a grey sun its crumbs cut my fingers my tears did taste like coal but they were empty because I couldn’t understand what sadness was I gazed at the sky like a forgetful child as I was unable to process the movement of the constelations like shiny animals eager to lick my hands eager to feed from my open chest
10.
Север 01:09
11.
I folded my heart like a piece of paper millionfold Some years back I used to write its surface the most beautiful handwriting the most beautiful story One day, though, my world got this habbit of disintegrating under my feet and never stopped since. Since then I fold my heart piece after piece smaller and smaller harder until the wrinkles have torn small rifts of forgetfulness and turn the paper to stone I kept folding it but sometimes have the weakness to open it and watch no matter how far I fold the wrinkles never erase that one word that breaks me each time And so I fold again with trembling hands tear after tear the wet stone is closed again but my mind is an open wound And I would die to end this to forget how to open the stone I would kill for peace I would kill for peace I would slay for silence To erase that beauty from my watchful eye millionfold
12.
Closure 01:15

about

Bystanders is the story of a modern society, increasingly unable to react out of empathy.

credits

released December 20, 2020

All instruments and vocals recorded, edited and mixed by Andrei Oltean

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Lochrian Poem Sibiu, Romania

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