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Cynarae

by Cynarae

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1.
Peasants 01:26
The height of greed and repugnance spawned unyielding devastation to those that have served and reviled you as their savior. You fill their ears with the rhetoric of family and community all the while with your heel upon the throats of those trusting enough to believe the lie. Betrayal comes so easily when the bottom line takes precedence. Unrelenting avarice as you profit from loss. Your pockets are lined, but at what cost.
2.
Time and time again, we throw our bodies upon the pyre, sacrificing ourselves upon the altar of convenience, an offering to the gods of the quick fix. The serpents lie coiled as their moment approaches. We lumber on, tired, hopeless and desperate. Our weakest moment, darkest time their chance to strike. The ill, feeble and desperate become their prey. All will be razed, laid to waste, and the ruins set aflame. The ill, feeble and desperate become their prey. Torn asunder, tossed aside without a second thought. Leaving a wake of desolation.
3.
In your own words, you long for a world where “men swing through the trees and scour the caves, looking for victims to subdue”, I long for a different world, one in which cowards like you are forced to reap the hate you sew. Nothing can atone for your words, but I would see the pain they felt visited upon your head ten thousand fold. Your “good warriors” fall in line right behind you. Their refusal to stand in opposition an endorsement. Their complicity cannot be ignored. Hidden behind an ahistorical view, a guise for your hatred. Retribution, for your false claims. Then finally your voice will fall silent, unable to spew the bile, fear, hate and ignorance upon which you have built your life.
4.
Bitter Cold. All Encompassing. Enveloping. Choking. Suffocating. The pressure, asphyxiating. Without Rest. Without reprieve. That which binds us, also bonds us. Ceaseless suffering we have all come to know. In desperation, we have fallen to our knees. Begging, pleading, imploring for a moment of respite. The pain you harbor also inhabits another, inhabits all. All is in disrepair, all degraded and downtrodden. Through this, we are inextricably tied. Through this, we are one and the same. Cessation will never come.
5.
Cast our eyes upon the ground. Bow our weary heads. Cast our eyes upon the ground. Avert our gaze. prostrate ourselves at the foot of the throne. Time and time again we refuse to lift our heads, choose our salvation and break these chains. Again and again our refusal to act reveals itself. Our silent complicity will be our ruination. We destroy and in turn will be destroyed. We will reap what we have sown.
6.
The pillars that bear the weight of this edifice are comprised of the salt of the earth. Stamped down with every breath. The structure endlessly reaching towards the sky, a monument to the ceaseless suffering left in it's wake. Built upon our backs. Strike at the pillars. This monstrosity must fall. Strike at the pillars. All that bends our knees, binding us to subjugation, are not divergent forces. Make no mistake, they are the left and right hand. And both are clasped firmly around our throat.

about

Self-titled debut EP, Recorded in 8 hours by Skingraeff at the Brickhouse in Tacoma, WA. Mastered by Christopher Proff. Released 08/15/11. This is available in physical format on cassette tape, with free digital download and zine/liner notes.

credits

released August 15, 2011

E. - Guitar
J. - Drums
K. - Voice
R. - Bass
G. - Guitar

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Cynarae Portland, Oregon

______ violence. See you in the dollar bin.

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