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The episode 'Whispers' marks the beginning of the Cult of Psyche podcast series, where Psyche explores the themes of inner turmoil, mysticism, and the blurring of reality. Through a poetic and musical narrative, Psyche delves into the whispers in his mind, guided by an inner voice that navigates the complexities of his mental state.
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Browse era →The whispers in my skull keep nudging me to kneel. Like the elders circling overhead, hungry for a reveal. The room won't [music] stop turning. The floors are black tight and I choke [music] down one more omen just to feel alive.
The choir in [music] my ribs keeps begging me to stay. If you pull that in the liver, all the shadows go away, but [music] the sand's already falling and I'm done by time. So I stash my truth in silence. You don't get the inside [music] line.
>> Keep demanding [singing] that I choose a throne. Sky [music] fire or underworld. Claim it or die alone. I'm the cold [music] bruised prophet. You should know better. Don't ask the storm to linger. This weather is
the chance in my skull [music] keeps claiming I'm not all right. Turning my mind into a cyclone that rips out the lights. Heavy air cracks [music] moves cold pressure.
Don't lock me in this moment forever. Whispers keep promising I won't [music] see dawn. And I don't bring up the drama cuz it hits too strong. They say I'm fine. But [music] that's the kind of life
[music] that gets you swallowed whole in the temples. The guidance in my head is a battleman with swagger. A whole vessel go down like a dagger on the stray acolyte with no tether. Don't freeze this chapter forever. The spirits keep insisting [music] that I'm on henge and maybe
there is the needle won't unswing black [music] skies I night grim weather don't trap me in this echo forever the whispers they are next marks since birth and paranoia [music] paints every corner of the earth we're all dust bound pilgrims heading to dirt but if I go down the night I'm taking the cosmos >> [music]
[music] >> The voices say [music] I'm cursed and the vibe gets worse. But I refuse to let the ending read like a rehearsse. We [music] all get claimed. But before
the veil lifts, I'll tilt the whole world off its [music] axis with one last gift. Returns, you won't surive. And I'm done
discussing the wounds I hide. They say I'm okay. We both know that's [music] false scripture [screaming] cuz the mirrors [music] crack
and the shadows [music] whisper. The first call repeats. Pray or be undone. As I spin like a blighted planet orbiting a dead sun, I hit the bottom of
the chalice just to mute the ache. I'm losing my mind. [music] And no, I'm not opening that gate. [music] Heat. Heat. [music]
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