The Treasures Arcane

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Oh my doleful betrotehed, enbewered in baleful marvels thou art Thou chariotest the soft of evil as whilome you did A host of shadows sings for mee The lamentucus quire of dead leaves in blushful woods From ivy-mantled towers I hark The thunder'fit urging from the horizon's dim verge The drawbridge it slowly lowers And a legion of armoured spectres rides towards the walls of fog... Sire delt Imbrunito Regno Del dorato tuo manto la vista m'enframma'l Scuro e'l color del verbo tuo Quando m'encanti con storie d'antico splendor From my blade and dudgeon drop gouls of blood, the blood of thy vermal foe To dumb forgetfulness a prey, death swallows Aurora's vows of hope On carpet of sapless foliage thou stalk whilst Zephirus swells your cloak A Supernat Kingdom built of dreams, such wilt thou be to mee...

Submitted by NecroLord — Apr 26, 2025

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Your features pale and calm by the dim light of my lume; Your eyelids behind whose shelter, eyes behold not earthly dooms. You dream in a shroud of mists… Fall in ageless slumber, fall in ageless spheres! And as I sit here, near you, I wonder what dream-paths you trample; What spectral realms you see, with eyes closed to this world and mee.

Submitted by Nargaroth — Apr 26, 2025

I was riding...I, a King And from the fog my own ghost did appear Aboon mee a strange formation of clouds gathered over the giant Cromlech Why does the mountains stand so great, sol silent How can the night dethrone the day Lo, Eminent Darkness cometh and her dress of eclipse shows unseen constellations... A circle in the sky then open wide And the Astral Traveller revealed to mee... Let mee clutch thee Serpent of Stars Be my meridian eke whenus thy torch's fire fadeth Thou marshall'st mee towards the realm where I will be Infinite I'll dream in a shroud of mists I summon Gaelic Imperial Hordes Clenching the hill in my iron gloves Silence shall mute their laughters and screams For death is silence and silence will be I

Submitted by The Void — Apr 26, 2025

In a portrait of evil and beauty, sneers she, Empress of ravens and owls By a firmament flourished of darkness she's adorned with nettle and thorns Throned'neath the fiery deluge, the tears you once wept Then turned to tongues of flames under Samael's spell Thou givest to the prescribed that disdainful glance Wich damns the crowd gathered around the scaffold With branches as frame Artemis navigates the night While the horizon thou scan nigh the Duke of Rains Laid onto meads of decrepitude are crying the Legions of Pride "Non Servian!" "Tough wind, that moanest loud grief too sad for song; Wild wind, when sullen cloud knells all the night long; Sad storm , whose tears are vain, bare woods whose branches strain; Deep caves and dreary main, wait for the world's wrong!"

Submitted by MetalElf — Apr 26, 2025

Scriptured in the features of your face, and in the hues of delicate Which painteth thee with the colour of antique gold Throughout dim and narrow lanes, aery surges of cold Bring to mee my Ancestor's voice, whispering mysterious words Tears of white wax many candles shed in solemn quiet As I admire the Romanic stone glowing like ardent embers Beautiful stained-glass windows represent legends of yore Thruh the rosette I behold the crescente moon in the enchanting violet of dusk Shall I question the ancestral stars And the earthly spirit of the mounts Thruh the forest and its tangled boughs Hear the distant echoes of the past...

Submitted by Corpse Grinder — Apr 26, 2025

Of quenchless radiance twinkle the jewels set onto thy crown Each one's a will on the unique diadem of tyranny Cherish the untrodden lands of almightiness in thine heart Drenched the exquisite nectar of miracles it forever will pulse Hid far from unworthy profane eyes the Sacred Chalice waits Guarded by the Goiden Dragon, the protector of virtue Only the valiant can tame the claw and the vehement flame Olny the puissante can drink from the Cup which grants immortality Markee! The one terrible chime... The blackest bell have toled, a sign that thruh the ages Draped in awe the kingdoms of the world Abhorred words sound to my ears like luscious rhimes Pernicious revelations pour from the pulpit of the Antichrist So, let vent the Cosmical Force in impetuous waves across universal tides The storms shall gather from the four corners of the earth And with one enormous roar announce the Conqueror's rise The one who keeps the Treasures Arcane

Submitted by Celtic Frost — Apr 26, 2025

Mighty though in sadness comes impetuos thy wind The sweetest and the darkest who Satan's secrets deems Thine breath o'er the forests, it gilds the landscape whole Oh, overture of winter, your strain hath mee in thrall

Submitted by Morgoth — Apr 26, 2025

A vast and vacant vale Ornated with haxe-veiled sylvan lakes Wherein aught dive straight Wor-begone shadows and nocturnal fays Oh pure primeval gate O'er grand piny mountains thou wait 'Neath the night's queen face I wonder at the infinite space... Caught in marble cold, crowned with a aurecle of livid flame Veiled by fragile silks, naked she stands in the garden of grief Distant thunders break whilst she weeps for the hustling flurry And as the wind arrives I cling to her eloquent cold skin and sigh The moon became my heart, pulsing the silver blood of thine A new eyeless sight thou givest mee to admire a world sans light Nightwards I sweep by the purest catharsis, the divinity of silence A rapture so cold...obscure in melancholic sublimity

Submitted by Pestilence — Apr 26, 2025

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