Darkly, Darkly, Venus Aversa

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"I am she, Lilith! Mistress of the dark of Sheba, first offender, and succour to demons. Whose sweet seductions and wicked rites lead all those too enslaved by the flesh to trespass against God's holy law. And tonight I come for you..." Midnight strikes, the candles sputter, muttering their reeking spells. I snuff their tongues, my heart a-flutter, these words I speak are gates to Hell. Casus belli, in hoc signo vinces. Veritas vos liberabit. Casus belli, in hoc signo vinces. In aeturnum, amen. Casus belli, in hoc signo vinces. Veritas vos liberabit. Casus belli, in hoc signo vinces. In aeturnum, amen. The scent of Death is rent in this ornamental verse. It ventures down the centuries, tormenting me with secrets so anathema. And now the fires grate, I must relate to end this curse. I'll break through spires to escape my fate, Am I too late or just perverse? Midnight strikes, the candles sputter, muttering their reeking spells. I snuff their tongues, my heart a-flutter, these words I speak are gates to Hell. So the blight begins near the woodland of a frightened village where the rites of unimaginable sin, and the howling on the wind chills the blood for fear of spillage. Where nightfall used to be blessed with best tranquility, its now caressed by misadventure. Templars cursed from the crusades have birthed a church, more masquerade in which they worship mass dementia. They came from dust and flame by the Red Sea on dead shores, fleeing claims of blasphemy and bestiality. Devils fed them back to us! Knights of holy wars inviting hordes of grim infidelities, in the grip of cryptic lands and desert sands they found just cause. And midst their entourage under the stars they brought relics and parts of saints, and evil left to clerics charge. With Muslim plunder they built their sect to the composite Baphomet. An androgynous sphinx, open, erect, universal in its closet display. Spawn of Lilith and Samael, first offender and the snake. In thrall like pawns beneath its spell the Templars grew to astute surrender. Sabbatical, fanatical they adorned its monstrous bust with a king's ransom of Eastern jewels, the embodiment of beast and lust. Many moons then proved the boon of immutable and beautiful darkness ever-afters. Then one eve when the ancient trees outside drew back unnerved, the pleas from those impatient teased something from the black beyond of nowhere. A stunning woman summoned, coming scimitar-curved. Statuesque but living flesh draping nakedness about their pagan saviour. She came Lilith, a perfect myth, The scarlet whore. Skinned in magnificence, in her defence she only slew a few of them. Born of a sacrifice, a virgin's price for the merging with a Goddess. She prowled the world again, enslaving men with the surging of her bodice. Midnight strikes, the candles sputter, muttering their reeking spells. I snuff their tongues, my heart a-flutter, these words I speak are gates to Hell. Casus belli, in hoc signo vinces. Veritas vos liberabit. Casus belli, in hoc signo vinces. In aeturnum, amen. Casus belli, in hoc signo vinces. Veritas vos liberabit. Casus belli, in hoc signo vinces. In aeturnum, amen.

Submitted by Morgoth — Apr 23, 2025

The Feast of Fools, 1308. As January slipped into the grip of winter a leather leash tightened round the throat of fate. Amidst the flock, disease and dementia, night was blighted more than ever before with screams of lust and obscene adventure, and scenes of raw debauch. The darkness was aroused with every kiss, and all who fell under it's spell were one foul step from the abyss. One foul step from the abyss... One foul step! Scared villagers there in All Hallows Fair feared the templars and their Queen. For Lilith compared to a royal nightmare when she steered their tempestuous fever-dreams. The beast was loose and beauty party to the horrors of this sonorous whore. A seducer, Medusa, a frozen Hecate cloned! Stealing seed, her needs were like a cancer, growing stronger with each whimpering dog. Knelt before her, thirteen necromancers called from desert sands to this land of opportunity. The darkness was aroused with every kiss, and all who fell under its spell were one foul step from the abyss. One foul step from the abyss... One foul step! Love was drugged by a copious vendor, a train of servants for her decadent games. Purring on rugs in fugs of opiate splendour, vain Lilith spread her wings again. Stars they gasped and comets in ovation lit the towers, their very presence declared. They watch with lust, despair and veneration for the Goddess seated naked there. The painted eye of the storm! Plagues of sin, played to win all hearts and souls in thrall. To her embrace, her fatal whims, desire meant to conquer all. Until that fateful day, 1308, with a force blessed by the Kings of Hate. Facing winter gray to disintegrate once noble halls. The villagers in a belligerent horde, fraught daughters fanning flames rose like pillars for their militant Lord, thoughts of slaughter haranguing hot veins! They assailed the fort beyond the woods, as the howling broke on the stroke of midnight many lost their sanity at what they fought. Amidst those walls, the creed of dementia annihilated by sheer weight of the surge. Put to the sword, freed from their calenture, the great estate was given straight to the church. Of Lilith, no limb ranked amongst the dead, but that she drank the blood of many men that dark night it was said.

Submitted by BloodShrine — Apr 23, 2025

The world was her cloister, the Abess Duboir in the convent at All Hallows fair. A pearl in an oyster, she shone like a star, augmenting her sisterhoods prayers. Her singing touched Angels and melted their hearts, her choirs inspired the search for the lost holy grail, the Benedict arts, and the best of the Catholic Church. But if one thing, one precious little thing would darken this facade. There would be such consequences! Like the night Sister Victoria stepped in from the freezing cold, no candles would light at Evening Mass. The days passed by without a sigh but dusk came thick with dread. Intangible, the air was full of wanderlust and approaching bloodshed. In truth, the Abbess with her pious whims enjoyed the new girl's pain, proof to the rest that the briars of sin entangled all the world in Satan's name. Victoria Varco, once an heiress to a proud noble estate, fell pregnant by her recklessness who then fell foul to a violent fate. Such was her crime in expedient times, and the shame of besmirching her name. Her child was burnt, she was dragged to these walls for a life in obedient chains. But not one thing, one precious little thing would darken this facade. Like the night Sister Victoria woke screaming in her room, she spent a week spiralling from Heaven. And as the seasons wheezed and pined her dreams grew more perverse, for no good reasons she would find an alluring woman naked save for jewels and verse. When here eyelids closed, on a moonlit shore this intoxicating beauty would appear. The sweetest symphony composed those abating lips rose to whisper dirty secrets in her ear. "Clandestine secrets!" A dream within a dream she finds herself this nymph abreast a desert dune, and below the crescent moon atop a darksome stranger. Ah, the spurting of his seed inside her triggers paradise, she rides the beast until the Heavens tremble. Forcing eclipse, her lover licks her blood that drips upon the sand, and almost out of hand coarse plots assemble. For somewhere in the convent walls a templar treasure rests, forgotten to the vestibules like pleasures of the flesh. So in return for nightly runs, past tongues and wisdom's hiss, she promised to assist the hunt for an ancient golden chain amiss.

Submitted by Celtic Frost — Apr 23, 2025

She slept in ecstasy in hands that fanned her wildest fantasies, freed from Christ's frigid regime and rigid nails. She was first in church to lick her lips and self-debase, each waking second felt like Heaven in the scarlet one's embrace. And at last, clear memories, aghast relinquished their control, all things held dear to the wretched past coalesced within her soul. Madness crept into her sight though her sinful gait spoke of nothing to the contrary. Once-dulled eyes leapt alive with life her piece of broken mirror barely recognised. The worm was turning! For here sat grinning Victoria who, no three weeks ago was flogged red to euphoria for her dour love of God and the ardour of his crows. Cold cloisters kept the dead apart at the retreat of the sacred heart! She stepped in ecstasy 'neath skies that plied her wildest fantasies, freed into Love's reacquainted dream and sudden gales. Nights grew sultry late September, a man came from the village through the woods to help with harvest. She was burning like the fields, all her vows lay unfulfilled. His name was Isaac, silent, blessed, a mute whose tongue impressed her lately. But now red skies darken the roonks lament, windswept maelstroms harken the approach of Lilith's Nightmare Kingdom! The woman in her astral dreams became more vivid, livid, obscene. Seated on the throne of onyx blasphemies, emanating raw desire and the surging urge to scream. Darkness crept into her face, she stood erect and spoke of riches and their whereabouts. Finding in Isaac the need to place a hidden Templar necklace lest the month run out. For now stormed the vainglorious in her palace of mass delights. Her power dawned victorious, Victoria the key, her mind unfastened. By flights of morbid fancy psychomancy, rites of ancient wrong. Sweet seductions, peaked eruptions spiking through impatient song. Cold cloisters kept the dead apart at the retreat of the sacred heart! The Gate to Hell was forced apart at the retreat of the sacred heart!

Submitted by Corpse Grinder — Apr 23, 2025

At the very start there were whispers in the dark, and for all the world to see there was witchcraft at its heart. And on the autumn air the scent of bonfires everywhere, and a fell wind stirred the leaves. The persecution song! Telltale signs of possession, little Miss Demeanour in the demon's bed. Gasps she just could not suppress after lights-out midst the dead, and a past on which sin cast its darts of wickedness. Time was running faster for disaster, strange nights were burning in the furnace of her dreams. A name was uttered, Lilith, mistress, playmate, master, Such sights were stolen in the throes of ecstasy. And in the thick of all, in the Black Goddess's thrall, with the wood unseen for trees Victoria stood tall. Promiscuous in step the Devil breathing down her neck, as jealous zealots stitched apiece the persecution song. Telltale signs of possession, fickle Miss Demeanour hissed and disappeared. To her Sisters of the cloth she now reeked of Astaroth, again the curse had surfaced sneaking back the pagan years. Weaving webs of great revealing! Hidden in the convent an evil libido abided, undone. Breathing, deceiving, feasting on her deviant feelings she'd clung to her crucifix once her torturers begun. Her screams came quick, the miserichord, den to vice and screw that had reddened many tongues wrung symphonies of suffering from her. Many moons hardened pure hearts, those plagued by her black arts. Their rooms secreting phantom orgies, vile rites and rifled graves. Mere hours, now towered above this bent and beaten flower. Her naked body privy to the Abbess and her ways. Victoria fought, no guilt was wrought just a torrid retort of blasphemies. Nails and crosses vomited forth from this pretty little whore now arched like Hell. Arched like Hell! At the very start there were whispers in the dark, and for all the world to see there was witchcraft at its heart. But then the end grew nigh a dirge inferno filled the sky In its customary key, the persecution song. Telltale signs of obsession, no wailing banshee would dishonour their name. Nuns dragged her to the blasted oak, storm-clouds threatened holy smoke. They hanged her there like Judas with the Hellcat in her reined. Time was running faster for disaster. Exorcism, torture, gallows now a shallow grave. A name was stuttered, Isaac, tongue-tied, simple, bastard. They made him dig the pit, mindless of what it claimed.

Submitted by Celtic Frost — Apr 23, 2025

On the night all mirrors fell silent, and the clocks struck accord with the rain. A storm swept in with such violence, the dead rose to complain. The stars were ill-crossed as the weather, lost in its bitumen cloak. The Angels were warring, slick with endeavour, falling like tears through the thickening smoke. Blood redeems, Heaven torn asunder. A flood of souls scream on the rolling thunder. Blood redeems, Heaven torn asunder. She stirs from dreams barely three feet under. "Victoria, I come to claim my prize! Stealing from the convent 'neath the wrath of seething skies. For though you greased the palm of Satan With those moonlit silver thighs, I knew the beast took second place When I looked into your eyes. Your deceiving eyes filled with lies and missed good byes, and serpents hissing revelations. Your deceiving eyes, they tell enough of how I fell in love with the Goddess creeping deep inside you." And with the tumult up above him roaring Isaac sought her shallow grave. As lightning bolted through the grim down-pouring rain, he struck the hallowed earth again. Having torn at the soil like a man insane he threw his fists at the poisonous cosmos. And from that pit of shame he bore the coffin from her sorry lot 'neath trees whose eaves were knotted with rot. Through ornate chapel doors, unlocked to splinter her sarcophagus and gaze upon her face. Victoria... "Victoria, I come to claim my prize! Stealing from the convent 'neath the wrath of seething skies. For though you greased the palm of Satan With those moonlit silver thighs, making mockery of rosaries his needs will never rival mine. I recall a summer's day, the sunlight bathed your penitential scars as I sat and washed the blood away. Now your body stays, and the coldness of your lips eclipse like the first true kiss of winter." Pining for the dead on the stone floor spread she was shining through her winding shroud. A moon amid the mad, this son of Adam had a gift for the pretty young nun. A necklace wrought of twining snakes, two gold illicit tongues. He laid it at her throat where the rope had wrung, he was burning from the furnace of his roused desire. He wrested with temptation to be or unfulfilled. She was undressed for ovation, her sumptuous form the storm revealed. And with his driven lust exploding her lashes brushed his cheeks. They flickered with life, her limbs enfolding. Purring, licking wicked teeth! "Victoria, I come to claim my prize! Stealing from the convent 'neath the wrath of seething skies. For though you greased the palm of Satan With those moonlit silver thighs. You have left him just for me, I see it in deceiving eyes. Those deceiving eyes filled with lies and missed good byes, and serpents hissing revelations. Those deceiving eyes, they tell enough of how I fell in love with the Goddess re-arisen in you."

Submitted by johnmansley — Apr 23, 2025

Poets racking absinthed brains could never fully paint these nights, no martyr parting from his pain could utter words so erudite. As those she now divulged to me in the throes of passions grip, indulging latent fantasies that ran forked tongues along the lip. Of fate's pudenda, the twisted snake's agenta. Now the world would bend to her deadly legacy. Life's graveyard was waiting, such dizzying flight from the convent at All Hallows Fair. Without contemplating, we fled through the night too blood-drunk and cunt-sated to care. The Goddess had spoken and awoken desire. It crackled in the air around us, a psychic force shimmering like fire. And on her breasts, that old necklace, the one I snuck from the fucked Abbess whose dirty little secret, other than me, now shone with bold intensity. Vast the power it possessed, the darkness brought to living flesh. This treasure was ancient, taken by force from an elite caste of priests in Delphi. The Templars were patient, they stayed out the course then fleeced their Greek hosts in their sleep. That necklace traversed vile murders and miles worse but what was a curse to this perverse Demoness? Legend swore it was a gift of malice for the maiden Harmonia, the illegitimate spawn of love and war jealousy made it gleam for her. For with it clasped, her looking glass was ever beautiful and young. But disaster choked her royal caste and every throat on which it hung there madness, death and horror clung. Immortalised in mortal guise she was a sight for blighted eyes, a plague to gladly plagiarise and spread like red excited kisses. She was more than me, more than words could fulfil in the parlance of the Angels. She cast a spell on every cell in my nobody, she gave me back my tongue that she might run it on herself. She was Lilith, she was light, I was but a parasite beckoned to temptation in her velvet overtones. Through frozen arches, dressed in white she led me into paradise 'neath comets in ovation like the Queen of Winter, throned. Pleasures archetypal then much rarer agonies, I was a sworn disciple of her whims and dark decrees. In Europe's hair her spies were everywhere, a sylph amongst the filthy rich and debonair. Her greater plan, all chaos and the fall of man, for as she fed dark appetites she bred her children there. The spawn of love and war! Presiding over Hellfire clubs, Arch-masons and Agharta. The spawn of love and war! She rode the beast, her legs apart, a blazing pyre starter. Life's playground elated, such dizzying sights and sensations ignited her grin, as slaves celebrated her Satanic rites we climbed up to Heaven in sin. She came to me as she will come to you! Intoxicating in her seduction her siren sway, devastating Voodoo. Voodoo... Persistent, resistance is useless, fool to this Goddess, in lust she's cruel. Beyond any measure her pleasures will found a perverted Eden on sacred ground. Vast the power I caressed, the darkness brought to vivid flesh. And in it she now rules a cowered universe.

Submitted by Warbringer — Apr 23, 2025

Where does the madness end, how far down do the rungs expire? In smoke and burning heat, in depravity and sin? In her shocking retinue I saw the worst, desire run amok amongst you. And in her boudoir too the endless nights embedded in her beautiful cocoon turning black and blue and jaded. Kneeling at her feet my heart atrophied at her ravishing form. The ultimate test, her cult obsessed, with this body of the Goddess reborn. When she first laid me to rest I saw such sights of wickedness, from this harlot on a pedestal this scarlet woman scorned. I glimpsed desertion, the bluster of shame, the tribes of the moon, their lustre improved. A morbid aversion to the limpid domain of Eden and Adam her dark temper moved. I witnessed reverie then perverse resurgence, souls on fire. Blood and seed spilt for centuries for this imperious bitch. In her shocking retinue I saw the worst, desire run amok amongst you. A gnawer of taboo, dread appetites were threaded. Right throughout the mortal zoo her immortality now hungered. I remember, in Thebes enthroned with cat-skinned girls her long dark hair braided with pearls. A red gown split revealed her thighs as full lips rose to feline eyes. Egyptian black outlined each lid, it's clear who owned the pyramid. Temptress Lilith! Her beauty stirred me more than words could ever paint, her bible hurt. Tempered Lilith! Hissing in the dark, pissing on my heart, I was missing every part of Victoria. Victoria! I found them hypnotic, the years of display, of court life and parties, political bite. Narcotic, erotic, her bleary soirees left daylight a dream in the scheme of the night. The scheme of the night! But I grew uneasy, she wanted the Earth, for now she was spinning her sins. Breeding fell children and biding her worth before the new orders disorder begins. Feeding from the weak, savaged on their feet by her ravaging lust. Evening-dressed this young Countess led lovers astray under cover of dusk. When she took them to her breast they passed last rites, deliciousness. Swept into their every pore this matriarch of darkness bored. Harlot on a pedestal, the night orchestral. Harlot on a pedestal, never vestal.

Submitted by Celtic Frost — Apr 23, 2025

Forgive me Father, I have sinned! Darkness put her painted claws in again. Her vision drowns like service wine, whispered kisses so divine. I was blessed but now I've come undone! Storm clouds roll out overhead above their master. End of all flesh, end of all days! Love predicts disaster in her precious ways. I was burned, a sacerdotal soul by the Demon Queen of my dreams. Infatuation turned to total control, her rose was sweet but her thorns were barbarous. "Love me and worship me! I'll lavish you and ravish you, fulfil all wishes and fetishes too. Many never want to see, many never want to know the truth behind their fantasies. Their deepest needs, let alone be shown them." Forgive me Father, I have sinned! Darkness put her painted claws in again. Her vision drowns like service wine, whispered kisses so divine. I was blessed but now I've come undone, nothing left to do but run! Sodom rolls out modern Death on casters ever faster. End of all flesh, end of all days! The stars predict disaster in her bastard ways. "Love me and worship me! I'll nurture you and hurt you too, fulfill all wishes for my sad Aladdin." She comes to me like a sandstorm in an hourglass, a whirlwind of desire. I'm hypnotised to think beyond the pale, beyond heart-stopping eyes, and sopping thighs. I'm won't to fail! A wicked spell cast over me, addicted to her utterly despite the horrors that gestate beneath the beautiful. "I'll grant you life beyond your ken, the envy of all other men, whatever vice will make you spend Eternity with me." Satan's concubine, she makes her crime scenes shine from Heaven. Forgive me Father, I have sinned! Darkness put her painted claws in again. Her vision drowns like service wine, whispered kisses so divine. I was blessed but now I've come undone!

Submitted by Grave666 — Apr 23, 2025

"All mirrors lead to my palace, my exotic pleasure temple wherein my court is both gracious and insatiable, pure and obscene. For where pumps the true heart of life, there too seeps corruption. And from this my new Eden of nightshades, black henbane, sphinxes, opium and roses weaned on tears and blood will rise up like lust. And the shadow of my dark consort shalt extend himself across the face of the world... And Hell will come with Him!" Part of the garden, her dark Eden fed blood by poisoned fronds. My heart hardened in her wet season treading mud in her slough of despond. But only now a path lies straight before me, the maze is ploughed half through with hate and her crop is dripping red. Beyond eleventh hour! Her beauty and brute power grows stronger by the day, and with each rose that she deflowers the longer her throes of madness stay. In her grip on shredded sheets, once our fingertips had dug and clutched she whispered dreadful things to me. She wanted war with God, the underdog baring sharpened teeth. With her armies raised from suffering to ascend on jet black wings. She'd break off holy limbs on the racks of her witch hunt, and crush the church beneath her heel the Pope in homage to her cunt. A dark horse forcing nightmares to wring submissives dry, a vampire madam batterfang with vicious streaks a mile wide. Beyond eleventh hour! Her kiss has turned dismissive, her glance holds slight contempt. Instead those eyes burn on the prize of fates she really likes to tempt. In her grip on shredded sheets, gasping from conquered peaks of passion she whispered dreadful things to me. She wanted war with God, the underdog baring sharpened teeth. With her armies raised from suffering to ascend on jet black wings. She'd tear down mighty spires then rear them up anew, orders forged to her desires the eleventh hour nearly through. Lilith, the abyss, the slithering mists that cause all souls to stray. How to resist those seductive gifts on the shore of her unholy ways? She calls my name so softly from deep banks of scented fog, I almost lose myself before it starts. But my spirit keeps its silence as I drift across the lake, a glimpse of harem secrets now her velvet curtain parts. She is glaring like the moon! The wind dies down, eaves dropping as I bow before her throne, and she descends to greet me like the royal bitch to which she's grown. "Come closer, what have you to say? Black cat got your tongue?" "I am not your slave nor are you my saviour!" "But Isaac, I'm the only one!" I hold those cold deceiving eyes, her once hypnotic gaze, and pledge eternal love then walk away. Thunder seethes behind me, Death adjusts her favourite mask. Another lover smothered by her sanguinary darkness. Clasped in the garden, here you heard this story blustered through. I asked her pardon, swore my word, I'd score her sweetmeats just like you. For only now the truth lies prone before me, I couldn't leave her even if she stormed the Heavens as were promised. Beyond eleventh hour! Lilith, the abyss, the slithering mists will come for you this eve. Lustrous the cusp of her lingering tryst before those fatal kisses bleed. Beyond eleventh hour! She will make of you a plaything, scant amusement for her bed, and when naked flesh forgets to sing she'll take your fucking soul instead. Midnight strikes, the candles sputter, muttering their reeking spells. I snuff their tongues, my heart a-flutter, these words I speak are gates to Hell.

Submitted by Grave666 — Apr 23, 2025

"Kill a man and you are a murderer. Kill millions of men and you are a conqueror. Kill everyone and you are a God." [Jean Rostard (1955)] Born of the best of enemies Beyond the pearly constellations Wherein heaven has no embassy And hope no surly grip on reason Yahweh: frankincense Satan; gold and murder He is sly, bejewelled with sylph Slick limbs spread wide to guide you through the filth And rust Crawl to him fuelled by lust He's the horned one in the pentagram A waste of chaos by the gram Dark eyes for trouble, double damned Despair The storm upon lake Lacrymose Restless. never comatose The thorn upon the single rose We share... Germination His a renegade a Capella now obeyed A shitstorm without warning The pleasuit King In Yellow on parade Son of the thunderous morning Yahweh: frankincense Satan: gold and murder He is high. inured with vice The tower-cree er on our edelweiss Career A foreign power cut of utter fear Taught curiosity, he s atrocity. banned The taste of chaos by the dram A tortured course like slaughtered lamb Best rare The curse that haunts this thirsting tomb Disturbed, becomes the worst of doom Rehearsing all his worth for soon He's there... Extermination He is hatred. greed and war He is everything we ought abhor Were it not for the fateful truth Be sure We suffer him all the more And lo! his tyrant's eye Is fixed upon our rich and vibrant sky Now hear the wind Herald desolation As on that eve when angels clad In nothing but their whispered virtues Slipped into the valley Of the dirty serpentine Hes the horned one in the pentagram A waste of chaos by the gram Dark eyes for trouble, double damned Despair The storm upon lake Lacrymose Restless, never comatose The thorn u on the single rose we share... Desperation Disdainful. he self-deprecates The mirror's jagged stare And it's painful how we subjugate The grinning face reflected in there Yahweh: frankincense Satan; gold and murder

Submitted by NecroLord — Apr 23, 2025

Mother's milk has soured My life's a bolted door And from it runs a trail of vagrant gore My wounds are open flowers Fragrant gifts for my encore Bouquets of praise for bleeding, towered On the sacrificial floor I summoned and you came To the peel of twisted bells To the gelid whisper of my name I blanched, erotic danger Had me whirling like a star To the dark advance of strangers And then I heard you laugh A throat of broken glass Leather stitched to weeping skin A coat of death and suppuration Be my truth and agony An architect for my total destruction My erector, my dissector My flesh will be wet for your best seduction Be my truth and agony inventive and deranged Loves proof is in, its plain to see The fluids we've exchanged Part of these soul killers The Gestapohood of scars Carved an ornate invitation on my heart The scent of French vanilla With the stench of abattoirs Past tense of present laythings On those stained red lips ajar I summoned and you came From the churning guts of Hell With your Christmas hiss of chains Down the endless centuries Your torture bed of lust A shrine for us to redesign And sign in blood and rust Be my truth and agony An architect for my total destruction My erector, my dissector My flesh caressed by your best corruption Be my truth and agony inventive and deranged Loves roof is in, its meant to be My cells are rearranged I suffered and you came To the splintering of bones Winning pinnacles for my pain Raped and racked and mutilated I Raised from dregs again Autopsy-turvy, back elated In brazen arms that sacked my veins Skinnatra, take me to the stars Thrust me through to paradise Endorphins breaking fast Creature from the black abyss Teacher. sadomasochist Your tortured soul has led me To this altered state of bliss

Submitted by Finntroll — Apr 23, 2025

Oh dear God It is midnight in the labyrinth The night is set to taint the painted halls Moonlight is our cue The candelabra flicker at your passing gall I swear they're dancing just for you The dead leaves rustle on the manor lawns As a light breeze whispers through The call of wolves. the owls lament Our screams shall soon soar skyward too Mistress from the sucking pit All the world crawls lovesick at her feet The stars are passing observations Her voice is music, her legs go on Shes got full orchestration And been known to use it But trepidation is a far slicker song Amongst dull suitors She is bright and razor sharp A tree of woe uprooter A viper still at heart Shes alkaline and far acidic As sweet as clementines This mistress from the sucking pit All the world crawls lovesick at her feet The stars are passing observations Her voice is music, her legs go on Shes got full orchestration And been known to use it But trepidation is a far slicker song Mistress from the sucking pit Embossed by her postulant gaze Like Medusa on a plinth I am lost in her embrace Oh dear God It is midnight in the labyrinth A peacock fan of sinful eyes Swim wide across the room This night, espied, your thin disguise Does wonders for the sundered gloom For all lit up the shades retreat To dark Italian pews And corners where great vases stand Abrim with thoughts of naked dais with you Mistress from the sucking pit All the world crawls lovesick at her feet The stars are passing observations Her needs are dire, her rites are wrong She burns with exultation Like a fiery vampire For desperation is a far slicker song Amongst dull suitors She's bright and razor sharp A tree of woe uprooter A viper still at heart She's alkaline and far acidic Fluidic, serpentine This mistress from the sucking pit The waiters pass in gilded frames With glasses sparkling too The ball tonight rows magical Like the finest Venice threw And at it's heart a mythic queen Her skin of purest hue Whose beauty is unquestionable But whose duties are askew For beneath the airs and divine graces A slim tornado whirls On the precipice of her poisonous kiss The devil dwells deep inside this girl Embossed by her postulant gaze Like Medusa on a plinth I am lost in her embrace Oh dear God It is midnight in the labyrinth Mistress from the sucking pit The wine has sat and breathed it's last In blood red ruby where I find you by the roaring hearth A blaze of golden hair Cascading down an angel's face To pool about the breasts That man minds have wondered on but only I caress And then I'm yours. the velvet crown Of Venus in my hands Fists rip hard the eiderdown Desire firebrands Every mountain, every route My wanton tongue must take To taste that once forbidden fruit Before your bloodlust starts to...

Submitted by NecroGod — Apr 23, 2025

I have come from the freezing seas From the warmth of foreign coals Through the dismal fog of insecurities To a cloud-enshrouded noble goal The world has cast me from its laughter Thrown to the wolves, to the dread thereafter So now I forge a journey fraught Through these bitter wastes of snow Over ice and gorge to an Eden sought Far from the human races afterglow This sightless climb is treacherous to weather As the cold bites deep, old heartstrings sever Behind the jagged mountains Beyond the frozen North At the back of Boreas. The zealous wind There crest celestial fountains Crystal waters soaring forth In the realm of our sacred Angelus kin Neither muse nor music flees This garden of delights Everywhere the soothing hands of nature please In this state of pure Euphoria Paradise lies at the heart of darkness And one must pay for this deep catharsis Now the storm-clouds retch A vision fleets before my eyes Wherein minarets and spires touch Phantasmagoric skies And meadows stretch to woodlands Of sweet nymph and fireflies Death is in the breeze And his mind will paralyse My mind is in the clutch Of something too long fantasised Behind the jagged mountains Beyond the frozen peaks At the back of Boreas, the zealous wind The Gods of love are counting Down the nights until we meet In the realm of oursacred Angelus kin Now the mirage blears And the howling gusts renew their fury The gleam of moonlit towers Fades to utter fear The mountains rear in anger At the righteousness I lack And in their monstrous grasp I know Dear God They will never let me back... Free of enemies, no death, disease The doves of peace, in flight Carouse upon the ever-Summer breeze In this land of Hyperborea Behind the jagged mountains Beyond their icy stares At the back of Boreas, the zealous wind My soul is now surmounting Past the grasp of last despairs To the realm of our sacred Angelus kin Behind the jagged mountains Beyond the frozen North

Submitted by NecroGod — Apr 23, 2025