Diotima

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The silence already funereal spreads a pall His lips not drinking there or baiting breath Its muzzle all aflame with savage howls Idol of Anubis Aflame... In the fluttering veil that girds her absence round We breathe in always, thought it brings us to death His century appalled at never having heard That in this voice triumphant death had sung its hymn As to himself at last eterrnity changes him the poet reawakens They, like a writhing Hydra bestow a purer sense Calm block fallen here from obscure disaster Mark the boundaries evermore To the dark flighs of blasphemy hurled to the future

As if the light never shone And humans never thought All that are left shall be subject to suffer All left shall suffer The escapers made their pact and left And light shines on all living things above ground All death has eaten itself So it turns to life So the fabric of our atoms can stay secure And time's senses continue to sense So death comes and failures add up And we can only let time brush over us Let the memories pile up until the final plane And the memory pile explodes into the Universe The way of the eternal Is only through will To force the conscious mind Into the void of Death

Submitted by Morgoth — Apr 26, 2025

Wake, nurse your aching brow, the cloud behind your eyes For now soothed by gentle thoughts of oblivion And sexual release Inside every man is a beast, a perfect animal of Self-advancement Unthethered by conscience Beyond the realm of will, while the living self Fragments into quanta Is this the next step? Minds disolved in the Aether, a split species "Diotima, your sun, the more beautiful age, has gone down and now the storms quarrel in frost-covered night" Grant us the power of detachment, that our Fragmented selves will know purpose Ethereal love, spiritsense, of which the physical can only intimate Freedom from this flesh, that I may observe the balance of nature "You, the favourite of the heavenly muse You, who once reconciled the elements Come and comfort me against the chaos of our time Order the raging battle with the peaceful music of Heaven" "Till what's cleft in two become one in the mortal heart Till ancient human nature, so calm, so great, serenely and powerfully rise From out of our seething times" "Heal her life O Gods, a life that you yourselves raised" So she may merge our splintering selves, the physical and the ideal "for not everything is in the power of the Gods, and Mortals would sooner turn into the abyss Each day I shall give my cinders to your flame, And rise up another man"

Submitted by Corpse Grinder — Apr 26, 2025

Once gaily painted And awash in joyful Rites and the blood Giving warmth to the slumbering crowds The wise man who is not wise Sits and broods And dreams of the hills of youth The glowing gold of wind-dancing wheat And the embracing shade of verdant oaks And he knows that the memory Is a falsehood Born of the batterings of the present Merely a chimera of what should have been A balm for the litany of regrets Left unerringly in his wake Like in any other And the anchorite dreams He dreams a shaman carving blood unto Darkened cavern ribs Whilse shadows dance To the ecstatic rythms Of the Pacan. He dreams of pages of gossamer and spider web Whose words will not survive their altercation back to dust And of words that moulder in Mustered ranks In endless volumes in endless Maesoleums Whose foundations are the tide of the ocean He dreams of deep rivers of tears Of men as foolish as he Who would spread their days In the hopes of something more As anchorites numberless and alone Stare deep into the father sun Whose death is but a promise They cleanse their eyes Wash time from their sight With all else And so become immortal

Submitted by Corpse Defiler — Apr 26, 2025

The eye seeks a desert The anchorite sits, pensive Thought encumbered Pillars of cracked rock and The catarrhs of coarse winds The bleached bone offerings Of before And the deeply rumbled promises Of gyre and firmament The eye drowns and Time is nothing No more than the lines etched In the sand of ancient sea beds Where lie old dreams of caverned Maws and light in gulfing void No more than the enervating Waters which hold the murmured Whisper of desolation Of a great eye that has never blinked No more than cities In the dust of time Thresholds carved in cliffs And somber faces etched in stone

Submitted by Nargaroth — Apr 26, 2025

Rot encompassing stone To peel back this reckoning Masses of brain masters pitted As life returns this passing waste Proud to be living in the echo The mist of all things combined Unfocused apparitions stream Cresting in total divinity Not one with them Seperately crushing Glory amounted less in secret Blood trees stand on In slow stone centuries Petrifying the cast-offs of time Seeking the balance Acknowledge the dust and light Acknowledge divinity's mortality

Submitted by Grave666 — Apr 26, 2025