Oratorium

So, it has come to this. All but solitude in Explicit detail Have folded and left me. Hopelessness grins and feeds with mirth My philosophies of death: The nihilistic seal in which I once sought reason, And spites with black, sarcastic tortures. So alas the sleeper dies, In all devouring darkness consumed Where tears are blood from the soul. Facing mortality With trembling fingers As ever failing swords. In truth and essence Old beliefs are like a splintered shield Dying twixt the mills of God, Grinding bones to flour. The song makes bitter dances When crushed beneath that tower. Be still my bleeding heart... Alas all love is dead. Monumental in its overwhelming silence. Flooding with hurt, Burning with regret

Submitted by Finntroll — Apr 26, 2025

OK, how i hate you For making me want you so. How I hate myself For being so weak. How I hate your tempting glances .. or worse yet; your ignorance. How I hale my effort How i hate what you bring out in me, And your effortless magnetism. How i hate the things i do for you To wake your desire. How i hate the all devouring Solitude that your smile transposes. How i hate the fact You could have whom ever you want. How I hate the way You make me wish i was among those. How i hate your exquisite taste, Your sleekness and grace. How I hate my lack thereof, And the longing to match you. How I hate you stir in me. I'd die for you, you know. How I hate the irony. Insane that this is love.

Submitted by NecroGod — Apr 26, 2025

Tis Blood thou seeketh? Thou canst hurt me if thou want it. Burn and break me, Run your nails clean through me, For not even the pity of vultures am i worthy. White skin stings the eyes, But the soft, red, brush loves soothing ache. With cold, steel, serrated lips I kiss myself... So hard. In long arching motions. And the picture painted is one of death. Skin-like canvas Yearns and. beckons Screaming for repentance. The feeling when flesh parts. Gaping wounds speaking its beauty in riddles, A mute crescendo of spewing blood. Unveiling the- true self, Streaming from the heart. Drenched in surreal pain, And dancing in a liquid veil, A constant spray of fading life. Led by angels dressed as demons. Sweet are their arms to die in. But they carry thorns Thorns that rapture and release. Behold my art, The flesh takes form With killing detail And suicidal precision.

Submitted by MetalElf — Apr 26, 2025

World of pain, Aflame with sadness. Shrouded with ails Unspeakable 'lest my mouth spills. The weakening of flowers bent With the weight of sorrow. Of stones with names 1 never knew, yet feel.. I dance with them And hear their soft whisp Cursed be thy name and all thine deeds. Oh how we yearn for the life you seek to spill. Thou art truly black, And the dead writhe 'neath the earth on which you trod. No throne is mine among the Dead. With shame entombed in restless graves. A tearless sermon, and Their silent tongues fell limp. But mute curses sting deep. ... deep into the soil, And travels yon the gates Where they may linger Like unwanted children. Growing as tumours In wombs of stone Under weeping willows. No peace then in death Or life alike. So be it... But all are dead, And only the knell sings. Hymns of grief Resounding in ancient churchyards. Sweet is that serenade To eyes in bloom with sadness.

Submitted by SerpentEve — Apr 26, 2025

I stand an actor Staged amidst graves and memories, Playing the part of failure. A flawless performance. Beyond reproach and without blemish. A role so second skin tailored It tickled my palette When still the honey womb Coursed through me. Aimlessly directed By feverish, desperate gods. Insane like rabid hounds. ... And the play Through which i stagger Has a Greek tragedy’s bitter end Bond side to every act. A death in every scene. Heart of Kin bleeds hard, Showering red disapproval Across my lifeless stage. Audience of such ill manner Easily tint my grand finale With bold disgrace And blunt remarks. But i play my heart unhindered.. Spite all earths' scorn An icon of stoicism And confidence. Wallowing blind, mute And ever so spellbound In the riddling pulses Spewing forth From the orchestral grave. So then.. Here we dance. A miserable ensemble Pretending to matter In our respective worlds. My sweet beloved... Reality is sadly So very relative Much like truth, A matter of perception And quite subjective. Do not for the world Let go now. Oh heart kissed one. Childlike preserver I’ll wither And be no more If your hand doubts The warmth it protects. I hat which reignites All my acres Of yesterdays dead flowers. No play nor act Would then besiege me, Never could i fail In your burning light.

Submitted by Corpse Defiler — Apr 26, 2025

Uniting with the soil Clasping the earth and its endless mould. Preserving its soft mire Underneath heavy lids. Tired by the weight, of the world, Blinded by its cruelty, A pain so superfluously vivid, Yet in its realization I find peace. ... And linger in my tomb Where none holds sway But the ones that feed, With much excitement. My glistening children, Frantic with gluttony. With them I’ll soon have wings, And together we will grow Out of the earth, Lowering up like an angel of death Cadaveric and reeking In alt its putrescent glory. And with the hot summer's night Thus i swarm towards the sky. Drifting in the moist breeze, Sweeping the earth Like autumn leaves. A black horde carries my name, Nourishing on death And drinking decease. But before long The coup will he of life's irony. Suffering a thousand deaths anew. I’ll be raining silent and cold Out of the heavens, Making the world ray grave. Aeons have passed The cycle remains eternal. Kills me harder, Hurts me longer Than death ever could.

Submitted by Warbringer — Apr 26, 2025

Cast your charms, And work past my Massive hatred. Might let my peels shed If you'll drink From my wounds. Just might prove Something not easily Forgotten, ‘tis what i feel When I am strong. Shining with death's beauty Like a radiating black star. But those moments Are aeons apart, If not but wishful dreams, I soon awake to blood throbbing In my ears like a horror scene, Like salt in my wounds A reminder: I still live. That cursed fluid. Mocking me with its presence. Preserving a state of being I know not how to appreciate. One dull thump after another, Each a step closer To that embrace I long for. But time is of the essence, And I have no patience To endure this Day by day purgatory. Kiss me now And free me. Bruise me with the depth Of your innermost passions. I can take it all Anti Will eagerly drink From your poison chalice, Dagger me with immoral, And boldly steal my That last peace of Humanity left, As insignificant As the value we so Willingly attribute Life. There are roses within, Which, beauty steals breath, And whose petals yearn for A simple tenderness to release Its fathomless warmth. If not but for a single curious touch. Instead i burn inside With warmth never shared, Anti love that may never be.

Submitted by MetalElf — Apr 26, 2025

(Oh cutter of veins) Thou who parts flesh, red art the roses you grow Let me this night be the soil from which you nourish Deliver into limbs your rhythmic slaughter Tender is the wound shooting trickles through the sky, And the freezing that follows Ramming concrete The snap of wet bone Protruding its wrappings And the sickening delight of discovering therein: There is virtue in mourning I smile not Life passes by, With giant leaps in slow motion I smile not Life passes by, With giant leaps in slow motion (Stab and burn with slashing vengeance. Like a constant churn this millstone penance. I lose well if nothing else.) Steal not this from me Oh beautiful love, Undeserving as I am, your caring affection Chances are I'll let you all down: The essence of my being I smile not Life passes by, With giant leaps in slow motion I smile not Life passes by, With giant leaps in slow motion

Submitted by johnmansley — Apr 26, 2025