Moss Grew on the Swords and Plowshares Alike
A whisper in the rushes disturbs the flies That creep their way slowly to the bones of the body Twisted and meaningless, a mass that still Rots inside rusted plates of armor Forgotten longsword in the long grass nearby That only ever drank of the rain Fresh mud once splashed a face young and proud Hot blood once spilled in the weeds Where once a Paladin fell, now a shroud Of insects devours and feeds The dragon still gyres over the town While the worried pace the floors of their hovels Smoke in the sky and a mountain of gold Unclaimed in the dead heart Of its bestial mountain No one will save them The dragon gyres lower With fires flickering in basilisk eyes And mortal terror burning slower The Lady of Dreams shuttered up like a Jewel of great price In the tall tower with a madman reeling Downstairs in his reverie The demon in the triangle that told him... The knife that will cut... The cup that will drink... No one will rescue her No one will come Her champion lies dead Tangled in weeds With grass growing over him The eyes of the brave eaten by worms Champion shifting from grave to grave Lying dormant in gloomy bowers Spirit is restless, no one to save Centuries follow drunk on wickedness A forest child found a helm sprouting flowers And wore it in his innocence Wildflowers growing through useless steel The Hope of the World as tyranny glowers A spirit discarded, a wasted ideal
Submitted by Lake of Tears — Apr 25, 2025
At harvest time the reaper lies dead amidst the sheaves His scythe lies beside him The smoky skies darken Everywhere are the fires and the mass graves growing And the knell, knell, knell Countless knelling on the split church bell By a man of faith who worships water and wine And turns the dying away from his cold stonework shrine He prays to the god of their torments While in the muddy street the people die unshriven Watch them scourge themselves And carry the cross of their oppressor Two twisted branches stripped, bound Tied rough together by leprous hands The parade of degenerates sprinkle their blood It splashes the face of a filthy child Wild eyes watching from beside a thatched-roof cottage Sleeping mother decompose inside On a straw bed rank with soil The flies give praise Procession of demons stripped of dignity and pride Offering of hope in the icon of bleeding vanity Torn and bloody and seeping into the ground Like the seeping of bodies rotting Those that forgot to be forgotten Pass the time, pass the town Pass the bloody vomit down Bury the dead, burn the living Run away screaming God of torment raping, feeling The skeletons of thousands contorted By the throes of anguish By the All-Merciful aborted Moving on, a serpent slithers A grotesque menagerie of grovelling sinners That beat themselves bloody and sip their torment To the next stinking pyre To the next sobbing choir Lazy eye rolls in trance Drown in blood, Death and dance Stone rolled away from Paschal tomb Madman possessed, roll in gloom God on High breathe in fumes While below the Brethren salivate Creep from dawn until the pyres Twist the shadows and their cross into a shambling nightmare
Submitted by Lake of Tears — Apr 25, 2025
At harvest time the reaper lies dead amidst the sheaves His scythe lies beside him The smoky skies darken Everywhere are the fires and the mass graves growing And the knell, knell, knell Countless knelling on the split church bell By a man of faith who worships water and wine And turns the dying away from his cold stonework shrine He prays to the god of their torments While in the muddy street the people die unshriven Watch them scourge themselves And carry the cross of their oppressor Two twisted branches stripped, bound Tied rough together by leprous hands The parade of degenerates sprinkle their blood It splashes the face of a filthy child Wild eyes watching from beside a thatched-roof cottage Sleeping mother decompose inside On a straw bed rank with soil The flies give praise Procession of demons stripped of dignity and pride Offering of hope in the icon of bleeding vanity Torn and bloody and seeping into the ground Like the seeping of bodies rotting Those that forgot to be forgotten Pass the time, pass the town Pass the bloody vomit down Bury the dead, burn the living Run away screaming God of torment raping, feeling The skeletons of thousands contorted By the throes of anguish By the All-Merciful aborted Moving on, a serpent slithers A grotesque menagerie of grovelling sinners That beat themselves bloody and sip their torment To the next stinking pyre To the next sobbing choir Lazy eye rolls in trance Drown in blood, Death and dance Stone rolled away from Paschal tomb Madman possessed, roll in gloom God on High breathe in fumes While below the Brethren salivate Creep from dawn until the pyres Twist the shadows and their cross into a shambling nightmare
Submitted by SerpentEve — Apr 25, 2025
Skeleton peers from gibbet splattered With bird shit from a hundred rooks See that nothing grows around? Do you hear that gnawing sound? Life gnaws at silver cord Skeleton creak like branches Dead horse pile on the side of the path Life beaten to death, discarded 'He couldn't carry me no more He got what he deserved' Cruel peddler walks alone Silken bag, broken wares Rusted, useless, dead-end stares A few more miles, a few more feet Lay to rest and rot in street No one knows him, no one cares The vulture stalks the starving child And croaks the praises to its god The son stifles a smile at the Funeral of his father A few more coins jingle in purse Enough to clean and shine his hearse Bribe the witch for medicine Or pay the priest for needless saving Either way, Oblivion carves its mark upon them The salamander can see only fire The undine only waves of water It never mattered, none of it at all When all is slate, all is gray Life recline behind the pall And none were ever meant to stay All one colour, all is hay
Submitted by Corpse Defiler — Apr 25, 2025
Monstrous spire spears the purple Mote of dust breaches tarnished portal Far below Of its own free will and accord It isn't every day that a god dies Or every age that a mortal tries To reach the Terrace Immortal World crawls around its axis An endless search for a perfect season Tower claws over the treetops Over the apogee of suffering and Into the watchful eyes of fallen angels Watching from their holy places Blessed art they amongst the brethren Hero of the Hallowed Minstrel plays the weakness of mankind Upon bone horn and skin stretched over drum A half helm fountain of wildflowers A banner: cellar of salt over black field Impotent in the breathless air Suicidal stillness Mote of dust flies from portal In terror It was never meant to be Never, ever, ever meant to be
Submitted by Immortal — Apr 25, 2025
Rope scratching skin bruised, alabaster Spider watches from spider crack in plaster Respiration in bursts and sobs and Whoever said this was the coward's way out? Lashes long and sultry Eyes look down at filthy floor Black dress dying dress she wore Leap of faith off of kitchen chair Every last one of us will see you there A treetop swaying Evergreen playing in electric rumbling atmosphere A broken heart A broken neck Strong hemp tightens the more we persevere Cut her down Wash the body Scour the heart of its stains Dig a grave and forget her And bury her in her chains A broken heart A broken soul A broken promise An empty hole Deep in the confines of the spirit The center of the loop Universal gloom Cruelty in its multitude of guises Every word is a thorn Every thought shows its scorn For the sanctity of life With a cupful of sorrow poured over our eyes Necklace worn by the Queens of Hell And their Kings dressed in tatters Royalty all who wore them in the frailty of life Hard are the ways, some are not as dreadful Long and lonely are the wanderings of others
Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Apr 25, 2025
[Α] [I] Why do we torture those we love What shackles bind the loves of our lives To the side of the burning glacier Snow field flay the innocent corpse away And born again dead with freezing dawn Swirling shape, demonic shade Vanished back into the void of lance-toothed god Frost dragon eye waking and watching Jealous with the jealousy of god Bluer and paler than sixty undead moons Shedding ingots lead cold and pointed [II] Frozen in timeless Forever the end Forever the steaming blood spilled Splash on unforgiving ice and chilled Into the dying shape of bleeding Break this beautiful thing like glass A scattering of snow from pines Before the Age of Waste [III] The Ideal profanes the Actual Kill it a thousand times and a thousand And a thousand times more and still it comes On crooked legs To torment the living With its loathsome auguries [IV] Goetic thing trace triangle in snow It knows... Curse of race is prophecy See there is no end to perfection Dungeon ice jail the Master in rime of endless winter [Β] [I] Love burned his body but stole his heart away Locked within an ebon box Fixed by countless broken locks Silence says what no one else could say Upon the beach and upon the windswept shore A gathering of sinners mourns Immortal words that dying scorns Off the coast of Madness Not far from the daemon hollow Genius [II] Life is short, though death is very long A drawn-out elegy to the saddest song That was ever sung by the mindless earth In silent tombs waiting and dreaming Of growing and becoming and seeming To swell with the bloated mask of Pride But then to fall beneath the weight of suicide [III] Love is forever but you are not Dusty amber on a dusty shelf And its dusty ancient captive gazing out The flower pressed between the pages Of an antique book to remind us of our rages Stoppered tears hoarded in a flask of crystal Holy water, an ocean's worth of memories Stoppered in a flask of black rock crystal [IV] Shut away are the ruins of our lives In anguish on a couch of knives and dreams Nothing remains but the memories of others And the words and lines in the murmuring of stream
Submitted by BloodShrine — Apr 25, 2025