Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
-Yeats, pretentiously quoted by me
But anyway, after finally graduating from college, I made this with Anjel and Commissar Pazyryk to get the studio warmed up again after like, six months of not using it. Now that I have time to do things again, expect more weird noises along with my comic and other stuff. ;3
Keywords
fox
232,861,
cat
199,547,
jackal
10,998,
music
8,620,
dark
8,101,
synth
1,059,
electronic
556,
ambient
350,
psychedelic
345,
triad
344,
triadfox
245,
triad fox
203,
synthesizer
147,
didgeridoo
5
Details
Type:
Music - Single Track
Published:
7 years, 3 months ago
22 Jan 2017 00:42 CET
Initial: 8da73c9d021970e345ce0240c8617b37
Full Size: 8da73c9d021970e345ce0240c8617b37
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