A Sacrificial Offering to the Kingdom of Heaven in a Cracked Dog's Ear
I am not only a color But lately 17 and 3 As the 11th will eventually die. Time is brief and never longer Therefore I allow my shoulder to bury And all my fingers line one by one Then I can deny the black hole And deeply fold in a chasity of insights Next time we listen to your blood And it results in the sin of my strangled sprat As half watch the loud pitch laugh in your vicinity And the evily humored temptation tarnish fruit-bearing suicide My saddle will skid no further into tomorrow And in 1955 the dead will die in the infernal oblivion of my own domain However, we won't conquer like Erinnyen in page two But rather stalk our soulless nature In 3 shades of grey To caress a delusion sometimes causes a peculiar presence Which behaves how a deeply sunken razor would sound in blood And consequently our echos let a glow in the breastless Bestiarium. No As my poisoned Shadows broke in two from the Zodiacal Light And only farther a displeased death of the struggling odoring Shock of a horned blade in the perfection of animalistic Lust Decorating itself in a disgusting vesture Bacchanten climbed icy abysses yet, It won't Bring Forth the tender damnation Necessity to breed is blinded by the Oviparious yearn for death. And those not against God & Lucifer are suspicious A dissolute force highhandedly requires danger When Death rings for several luckless maids Bluish anarchy will instill over the Gates of Naked lust Only an elder enrichment of the boiling-points to forgive my life Will the blasphemic origin contribute To all the graven feet of the downfall. [Translated by Nicholas Reimer and Bartsch]
Submitted by johnmansley — Apr 23, 2025
Aimless priest of sarcasm Breeding a rich suffering When they're walking naked A raw species is rotting Where angels had once danced And lied to the pale black Now sparrows fall down to the side And explore deception with comic irony Like needle stitches in singularities Expired and prolonged in penance There lies in cold the gardener of both races And blights variables of Dead necessity and space Like needle stitches in singularities Expired and prolonged in penance There lies in cold the gardener of both races And blights variables of Dead necessity and space But don't listen to me tomorrow I can bring you the comforting proof Could go down to the maternal dark Where dimness & chaos Judge heaven and earth. [Translated by Nicholas Reimer and Bartsch]
Submitted by NecroGod — Apr 23, 2025
Even now where I adjoin the wick Architeuthis princeps finds himself On a quest after the religious Satan For a naive sin in a desolate accomodation And when the child with the bloody mouth Was denied the last kiss It wasn't an answer to the last one Fountain go to your brother... Then not a collar comes there of Is he still red from the ice melting? Why does the young copy have to like The anomalies of a machine heart? By now there are strange shadows That move where once lonely foot steps Performed the dance that cried for heaven Why does the young copy have to like The anomalies of a machine heart? By now there are strange shadows That move where once lonely foot steps Performed the dance that cried for heaven. [Translated by Nicholas Reimer and Bartsch]
Out of a watery devotion In trinitious aspect awakened Grants apple juice To the disgusting duke A strangely crying hereditary burden To the bloody chainment Of lust impregnated by Thanes Dancing clothespins darken A rusty mosaic Upon quietly moving lips And the leaking difference In a permanently unloved wave Fades in purgatory Of the little death Man dies like his water And often Christ was buried In a hilarious communion May the once bent skull bone Grow above the top of a lost knife [Translated by Nicholas Reimer and Bartsch]
Submitted by Celtic Frost — Apr 23, 2025
Possibly, unexpected Allowing a scorpion that Of what we still don't know And let it fall in sculptured blood By the swing of his scrotum The Putatives Grade your pre-judging swoon Overflowing bashfully to the view of a Shaved God in the brutal darkness of an abandonded horse eye A second scissor obtains admission over fivefolds of sorrow and it wasn't just the chaos knitted like clothes Then when a flaming creature did it in the self-chosen dances of death And the darker ones lead The Seraphs who hurriedly chase the sounds To keep back the thoughts of bursting A pissed Eel, Whose effigy steps over the edge of the abyss No flames reach me and no one is already there Where my death discords with an enslaved toy base No nail shadows tears through the stillness Of my submissive return home Yet, only to directly sit itself on a shorter sword belt Over the consumed shame of my darken ardor Death believes negligence instigates with vehemence across the pale ashes that broods a ready to fry love and the once straight beam is now bent and strapped to the wick no more [Translated by Nicholas Reimer and Bartsch]
Submitted by Nargaroth — Apr 23, 2025
Even our terrestrially penalization in darkness Strides unscared in the ruin of immaterialistic density Sacred incest imitates Zoonosen in debility As soon as the shallow places fatally interprete annoyed wasps The seemingly dead undermine inactive cycles in decadence as long as prohibited idiocy indiscretly exposes rear-view pictures Rarely skulk inherent hermaphrodites their demons but speak in provisional wrath amongst humility [Translated by Nicholas Reimer, Markus Strunk and Bartsch]
Submitted by Morgoth — Apr 23, 2025
Bekloppto Beknakkto, seven infernal hellfirewinds of Flautz And there three Bald-headed blasphemies of no role-playing-games Have rarely thought to themselves: Kiffsel, Kaffsel, Kuffsel Yeah, what is it then? Stinky-cunt puked once in awhile In a bucket of cats And Satanic sewing-machines The evil sausage sinking sank When childish greasy pizza picks at their hair Fussy struggle horn and having a flat chest To cause irrevelant blows of mayhem When foul-toothed dirk stinks out of his mouth Biting flesh in the land of vertical Smiles Hellchrist evil and painfulness kiss master of the six silver strings of hell as well was a little bit unimportant Sturmbas, the great countess of Eva wanted to stay in the bar in the little asshole fuck, fucked The devil has sons [Translated by Nicholas Reimer, Ute and Bartsch]
Submitted by BloodShrine — Apr 23, 2025
Lust refreshes itself on comforting pain and sweat intermixes with the thirst of many others I gave birth at the foot of the mirror and uplifted my salted head Which bedded in embers even cooled with twisted tongue coincidence ...escaped [Translated by Nicholas Reimer and Bartsch]
Submitted by NecroGod — Apr 23, 2025
The banished sorrow Buried in aurora Causes lifeless emotion In the flame of my faded heart If dead life immerses in dawn And the shade of my schism Is to be lost into brightened blackness Death will be the only redemption
Submitted by Morgoth — Apr 23, 2025
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Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Apr 18, 2026