The Mind’s I

For thou sweepst me in thy robe of guilt with garments forged in spiteful steel No tainted pride shall make conviction cease None shall be unto thee proven worthy of thy outmost fear Let aeons the silent longing instinct shun the ones you dear As the hunter boldly stalks his prey intoxicated Conviction reign where truth might sway intimidated Silence the bore Shun the ones you dear The hunt is over so the feast begins What feast is enduring when all is said and done Everchange of hearts The hunter's reason fail The hunt is treason The hunt is over so the feast begins Why search for endurance when all is said and done?

Submitted by Warbringer — Nov 07, 2025

Enter Suicidal Angels; How hungry have we become; Like animals naked in shame Fed with the hooves of apocalypse that galloped down, disordered worlds behind From word to a word I was led to a word that spanned over cultures in rage Crimson masses, steeped in decadence holding our tongues to the thirsty sun So, is the future still open? Then enter, hornet, from our hive-dark hearts to draw down the end from within We need not the horns that emanate from our warty, haunted bodies Nihilist, Hedon the priceless art of their lives Sorrow is a wing laid atop their heads. Skin deep, we carve our immeasurable sorrow in the fold of your shivering arms Hedon, Your children wild and filled with death Jupiter in our unforgiving eyes; a pandemonium of bodies and gold Eager, as a part of your face and the sickness attached to your skin (stone) as the wine-rush, chargin from androgynous wombs to open free the lid of pain Hedon, rinsed in post-human shadows a monument scorned by the teeth of time Stale-faced keeper of secrets, leaded with implosive fire the whore that carried the apostle to the mating point on the graves of giants We look at you, afraid to see what we really are.

Submitted by The Void — Nov 07, 2025

Fast fading roses Non-lingering words Scythe be my instrument Through dreams I now rage No guidance is me offered No forgiveness thee is promised Now can distance be a factor when engraved in me thou art? Nourished by the soul my flame shall serve to torch the earth Denial serves me Denial serves me right That fire cannot burn with flames of no origin That star cannot bring guidance without force or form One is darkness The other silence Without silence the darkness loses its splendour Sweet bliss that sleep now giveth tempt with forgetful night Ever haunting that image within swear to the answers denied

Submitted by The Void — Nov 07, 2025

With each daring new concept creation and form one fragment of shelter from heaven be torn The bleeding through barriers shine of redemption The taste of renewal let art once again be a weapon The whim of the forger is theft from the flow the hatchet now redden, with creation's blood Constant is forever I am the creation so bold in design The errors of one thousand minds bleed out through a world gone blind This is the magic that a name would stain

Submitted by Lake of Tears — Nov 07, 2025

Drenched in the perfume of hell Impasto of burning oils forming continents on my outstretched naked body, erupting crimson stains of shame stains of shame Limbs that leave their Nests of Red to spin the reels of pain Attach the nails and electrodes and spin the reels again Retreating hunger running through the years carries the scorn on skeleton wings Storm me thou with the sharpened claw swift hammer nails that pierce the shoulder of time Behind the sunset, with movement regained For there lie shadows even farther from the light I run, devoid of motion, devoid of name attach the nails and electrodes black moratorium, haven of refuge …

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Nov 07, 2025

Gently, hold our heads Gently, hold our heads on high Aimless time, in fear now hide Overthrow the plan Confusion lies in all my words Mad is the soul We barricade ourselves in holes of temperament This is the dawning of a new age A heart that beats the wrong way Insanity's crescendo Gently, hold our heads Gently, hold our heads on high Windcolor, second sight A touch of silence, the violence of dark Illusion span, the aroma of time Shadowlife, the scent of nothingness Insanity's crescendo! Infinite fall of instinct Order of one spells deceit Infinite lack of trust Order of one obsolete Oh, escaping time is all we lost ahead When it's found, can judgment make amends? From force-fed impressions let us mortify the mind Each soul to violate, each instinct to be rendered false Torn asunder be the conventional forms and frames Now for the blood of heaven unlearn …And the cleansing comes Felt a tremor in the pillars of the senses Cursed victim of a distance near The first dream, the clearest vision Aimlessly steer towards our night We belong to thee Oh, dearest bliss, unnerving silence Entangled within Dimly begotten, in clarity found Virgin-like tears for impurity bound Search he, who darken the stars and the sky Greet now this vision an emerald dawn Empty the Sun, carve out the wind Insanity's crescendo, tear out the blinded eye Insanity's crescendo! Lament of thunder, take comfort in fear Lightning veins in crude exterior Voice the oppression, voice the hypocrisy Lay down the law that made instinct fall Escape now and revert the cleansing rebirth Torn asunder be Affect me not on darkened vision Insanity's crescendo Grimly threat, the footstep's torn Rebellic stand, the seeker tall Turn of insanity's hand Take this darkened vision from my sight Nailed to the image of ignorance Each soul to violate For the blood of heaven

Submitted by Sexy Gargoyle — Feb 06, 2026

No-one survives such an attack and we all stood like monuments baring the nails in her back Still moving sinews in a graceful impression of life shyly the arms, shyly the breasts fold fear die Ten fingers driven through the heart, through the core as I stare into those strange, magnetic eyes and wonder: (for you/me) are there demons there? I knew it all the time. The misanthropes were right to crucify themselves in the need of a saviour. Still moving sinews struggle fearsome with a lifeline forlorn, caught in the nest of the impending dark fate. Semi-worlds, lifetight lodges where faces stiffen, plagued with the frost of disease Our capsules barely meet The worms of disorder like living black numbers that drip from her pergament skin Joined in sweet fury to anoint the decay fragile and reddened in lifelost array

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Nov 07, 2025

Still alive all knowing eye beneath your stream of words your rapid stream of words Though none will ever live to share the radiant stream the promised eyes from which your picture fell Re-seal the components from atom hearts Revert, non-owner of worlds As uncommunication becomes the manifest our alien, architectural skeletons in unison collapse Death rode these silent caravans and steered them to the rim of the world. Their diaries and withered letters all devoted to the art of dying The enterprise, academy the crafts held in our hands all devoted to the art of dying No room to arrange the final row of masks drenched in chameleon-ink for the grand charade The tongues that burn in you the slowly altered language that colonised your heartland advanced through broken doors And they still believe in you They seem to see so many things hooked in your pestilent eye Your stale lids, your iris punctured by tongues licking a lie The enterprise, wolvenlore the cursed seeds of man plunged through the tunnels of uncreation We reach out to move the landmark, hands seeping down from the chronicles of time The quill now blunt the scribe devoured

Submitted by Pestilence — Nov 07, 2025

Come death or dearling the claws of the raven hold fast Enticed and starving a lustful revenge to the last Unlight flood the seeker's eye Come flame or false hope gifted in spirit as I Forced upon freedom Let impulse nor stillness be spared Fierce tidal tantrum nourishing rapture within Come feast or fire repellent in forceful defence Unchained, forgiving to none solemn in swirling embrace

Submitted by NecroGod — Nov 07, 2025

Tongues, lost in me yours be the sharp and the vile Glide neath my skin storm trough my nerves I bury the nomad years hours in the earth couldn't exorcise these searing, peaking tongues Immune you say yet venom stakes in strangest guises Tongue, throat, tongue slayer of the word and stealer of vision A monumental reign of terrors throats slit up to stain the target We're food for the hounds of trauma, prey to the crows of stress No power left to retrieve my stolen language Filtered though the illiterate fingers of death Flies let sickness be poured from the cupped hands of bedlam On account of their brightness I made friends with the word and the moon went with the tide and left for the sound of dead instruments thrown out of tune The red square patterns, dragonrise and evenclaw decoying from pandemonia syfometry Let ring a disgonant note in the music of the spheres the streak of promise in the nuclear sky These whipping black tongues aching to lick me back to life to inject their truths within me

Submitted by BloodShrine — Nov 07, 2025

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