Crucible of Misanthropy

by Kata Sarka

  • Streaming + Download

    Includes high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. Paying supporters also get unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app.

      name your price




Recorded by Carl Byers at Clandestine Arts Studios April 2012


released October 31, 2012



all rights reserved


Kata Sarka Indianapolis, Indiana


Kata Sarka is an entity dedicated to wandering the electric path from across the chasm of the Sitra Ahra, re-incarnating fleshless, and wearing the Rings of Saturn as a Halo...Waiting, as a future lodger, in the doorway of the House of Lampblack Illumination. ... more

contact / help

Contact Kata Sarka

Streaming and
Download help

Track Name: Mired In Spleen
A legacy of dissatisfaction
Spirals out rotten plans
To nurture pediatric disaster
From a lexicon of emptiness
Post-modern disillusion
Not quenching sulforous instinct
Nor renders to obsolescence
The need for pedigree

(Because) Y(our) hearts are mired in spleen.
These cities are floating on spleen.
And rising to the top...
An armada of inverted children,
With voices walking backwards!
With legs-talking-downwards!

Bombardments, of self interest
Engages you to concede
To biological short circuiting
And cataclysmic impositions
On finite resources and environmental entropy.
Your reproduction
Is a virus
Your replication is conspiracy

Repeat chorus

Shit out husks of flesh
To grind in the cogs of nihilistic industry

Humanity....Is a natural disaster.
It's abundance...Is synthetic aberration.

Alternate chorus:
For every child that is born
The universe contracts a little more.
A metaphysical vice.
A supernatural fist clenching its grip.

The barbs of dark matter
Puncture the penumbra of consciousness.
The screaming of every infant
Makes the universe gag in disgust.
Track Name: Crucible of Misanthropy
I crawl! Into the skin of a thief,
And the first sentence of mystery
Burrows into my eyes.
Gossamer telegraphs thread through the mind,
And the knives that once were against me
Forge anew in this mystical grip

(Then I become)
A live wire; a 9 cut loose...
Writhing, sparking and spitting...
A serpent rabid with electric venom.

I feel the sine wave murmur
...Through these nerves
...Through my blood
...Through this flesh
Becoming a conduit for malevolent voltage.

(And now I am)
A vengeful phoenix,
Rising from a molten crucible of misanthropy.
A one-eyed idiot god,
Casting destruction in every cardinal direction.
Synapses set aflame
The moment they emerge.

I struggle to unconsciously subvert
My own stupidity
Through solipsistic shock therapy.
This singed serpent spirit
Attempts to drop its Black Egg.
Track Name: Ghosts of Smoke
Staggering rants of the tell-tale heart and scrawlings of madness
Make perverse accusations into skin canvas
Carve my name into the face, into the eyes of history
Blinded, this sad world is damned to failure
This, the rapturous weight of despair with heavy hands
Into the crushing black
Pushes, stifiling, suffocating
Each breath is stagnant and tortured
My last faith is extermination; systematic extinction
Is the only hope for this doomed rock
and in my selfish affliction, I'll vomit bleach of this cleansing contagion
Upon the filthy pores of the stigmatic stigma and wash free the blood of the wretched divine
To humble humanity with sick and faithless atrocities
Though curled and shaking in my crumbling foundation
In this juxtaposition of regret and despair, I'll sell all devotion and hope
For wasted flesh
Though my eyes are clear with wrath, they remain clouded by doubt
This hate gives me focus, as I am blinded by directionless anger
Disparaging all effigies, may my embers feed a fire born of science and flesh
Smoldering and hushed as smoke
Like whispers from the ghosts of a burned down church.
Track Name: Perpetual Stupidity Machine
Assembly line production
Of Aberration and mistake.
Continual cog grind
Of the things most regret.

A workhorse dredging drama.
A time card never punched out.

When will the shift end?
Not till we're all dead!

The subtle forsaken for the gross.
Pounding self loathing
In this crucible of trash culture.

Pour in the bitter fuel
To burn in the belly
Of a Rube Goldberg torture totem:

Perpetual Stupidity Machine...

Looming devourer
Of emotion and sanity
Hatred lodged in the brain
Like an impacted tooth.