Obsidian

A curse siphoning strength from the blood of a newborn His marrow dry, Your feeble eyes fear the sun of the morn Your cries to God, devoid of faith, with all hope gone. A boiled skull of a mare staked to a pole The runes writ in blood will devour his soul The Nithing taketh place on hallows night I can’t help myself, I feed off tears and fright His heart will pump in vain, his lungs shall flood So it has been written in a parchment doused with blood So you seek out vengeance To mend your shattered heart Amidst decrepit and tattered scripts You might grasp at ancient wicked arts Your soul bereaved Your fate I’ll weave Lest you forget to atone for your debt Deeper in lust Give me your trust For a soul bereaved All you can do is read Read for me The volumes of the dark Serve me well and your child will breathe anew This I swear to you

Submitted by Dahmers Fridge — Apr 26, 2025

Another soul has been affixed to mine The nithing’s curse was achieved of my design Obsidian allure coursing through his veins His tepid mind collapses from the pain My will becomes his will Plunder the tombs marked with ash and with bone My will becomes his will Bring me the means to usurp the Lord’s Throne Unsolemn realm, Black as pitch and slate Unfurling Netherscape, The Divine, Your air mutates The blazing pits of coal, Any light, The fog negates His son has joined me now And when he reads from the book I will walk the earth again There have been many times over dozens of years Where I've drain a soul Engorging my necrosphere None could abate my desire to breed malcontent in their hearts, For in my foot steps they’d lead I’d lead them down A covenant born of hatred And empty vows Pledging their filthy lifeblood to me in vain Never to see their beloved dead again The path I lead To those bereaved Prey on the weak My foul technique Unsolemn realm, black as pitch and slate Unfurling netherscape, My essence will yield shape Obsidian mist enshroud Over stirring seas Ashes ride the breeze His will becomes My will His heart’s been seared by pure black hate Soon I will take form and ascend

Ascend with a Tome Writ in Blood Chapters Solely Designed To reanimate The dead It’s leather seams Bound by flesh Tanned in beams By archaic means Creased pages unfolding The scripts yield impure summonings With it’s might, The dark At last, It’s legions will amass Yet heed must been taken Dominion unforsaken For the volumes inked in blood Bear the mark of Satan Sealed within a sepulchre of stone The grit of the earth grind feet to the bone Thousands of razors affixed to the ground Led to the gate by whispers from burials mounds With Obsidian lust, he is bound The letters the swirl around the page Bringing visions of a desolate age Where fire rains with sulphuric winds Where the sunlight is red and dim Further down he finds The air is thin Asphyxia begins Delirious, confused and demented The once taut thread of sanity frayed by revenge By my command The dead arise My plan he’s finalized His love reunited Alas he was shortsighted For the son he once loved is gone Alive but gone His body licked by unholy flame His lips pronounce my unsolemn name The fragrance of his son’s decaying flesh A constant portent of his eternal shame With it’s might, The dark At last, It’s legions will amass The scrips have been taken Salvation is forsaken For the volumes inked in blood Are Mine

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Apr 26, 2025

Death flourished in a withered grove With bleeding tendrils that the corpses wove Desiccated, risen from earth From the virulent strain, a new era is birthed Death has found a way It feeds upon mankind dismay It yearns to tip the scales And shatter the balance that was once so frail One by one the bodies rise With limbs and face rotted and sinewy eyes Cremation undone, They're poised to become The impetus of man’s demise Beasts of scriptures long gone With Fangs, Claws and seven-foot jaws They howl scream and shriek in the night Taunting the men who are too scared to fight The lurking shadows are circling the altars Leaving a trail marked with grime, soot, and mud Unsealed, they cross, leaping the threshold of churches Finally committing atrocities echoed in tomes writ in blood Like scum, writhing in the waste No mercy, not a trace Razor talons drag upon the face Soaring overhead, the damned wyverns of the dead Beset with the thrill of the outbreaks’ first kill Denounce your poultry gods And tread the path once trod The ancients found a way To deliver yourselves from this bane One by one the bodies rise With limbs and face rotted and sinewy eyes Cremation undone, They're poised to become The impetus of man’s demise Death has flourished albeit a bit malnourished Her needs arise with vain contempt For the One the darkness tempts Honing the one, honing the one Honing the one who will be death’s earth-born son Honing the one, honing the one Honing the one who will blot out the Sun Death has flourished and sank her fangs into reverent lambs As wolves unto sheep, She’s preyed on the meek Mobilizing towards the Nazarene Torn between a life obscene, with obelisks risen to remind the deed The remnants of the old ways carry on throughout the dread filled day

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Apr 26, 2025