The Great Maddening

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Degenesis (Amor & Seuche) Once upon a tragedy our bravest returned From grounds now forgotten and forlorn With haggard faces, but a gleam in their eyes They entered our citadel, yet not alone... From the plateau of the battlements, I espy Black flowers clinged to the skin, depicting their cloth An absurd legacy of the subdued Streams through their galloping hearts ...The precursor of a latent drama Virgins, bards and fools await their scene As teeth are chopped in muscle tissue Voluptuous fusion of saliva and sperm Phallus and flesh, hunger and lust Infernal orgy of decadent meat Yersinia Pestis - unveiled High above the feast, hidden in the clouds Moon's sickle lurks, threatening to behead Succulent odours are swallowed by the stench of decay The dancing scythe joins the carnal play “Such as I was you are, And such as I am you will be Wealth, honor and power are of no value At your hora mortis” “Were my eyes not hollow, would I perceive Your untouched beauty and angelic grace My dear lady, so dainty and cold, Oh grant me this dance and your life shall end old” A wave through foul bodies Culmination of the sick Life’s defloration And the Dead overcome the Quick “Your bright red lips have grown deathly pale As you listened to the dying men’s wail I have done my work well, now I can depart What I leave behind is called macabre art!”

Submitted by Celtic Frost — Apr 25, 2025

Dimension: Canvas Never before was I to delight a suchlike chef d’oeuvre Its mere presence imposes a taciturn remaining on me Myriads of galleries I have walked, indeed But which master could brandish a palette of equal birth ? A fragile colour scheme scattered upon the canvas Shapeless in its sublimity and meant to endure An insidious urge embraces my psyche To haphazardly drown me in a spiral suction Disgorged and spawned from the deviant The frame now resembles a coffin for the gist Impiously mounted in disgust With fever being the artistic medium An apathic journey towards delirium: Indispensable knowledge to interpret this cryptichon “ Dismal relique, Hideous parody of anthropoid contours, You are far too monotone in your expression ! So cease, obscure phoenix, cease to rise … ” Morose, I scrutinize each and every feature And endeavour to focus beyond the blatant Still, deranged I am forced to give up To languidly regret all of those “whens” and “whys” In a final writhing with pain I try to summon the significance of this allegory Queer aftermath, confound me not ! On the spur of the moment I become aware That I peer at the ridiculous effigy of the painting’s creator I am left to discern in frantic turmoil That the draughtsman has worked his canvas in glass … !

Submitted by Cyberwaste — Apr 25, 2025

Mens Insana In Corpore Insano "Native to a narrow space, I crave for anautonomy Darting more than just a glance into this mind of mine Errata-footprints witness my trespass srorrim fo tenibac a hguorht sdrawkcab koma gninnuR The idle heir is oozing And with on overdose of innate aspiration I delve into you!" "As for whether I daydream or not, I cannot tell precisely Yet numb fever relieves me of every doubt My corporeal entity - assailed! A let-off calamity noxiously roaming To dastardly interfere in my synaptic crevices Wraith, loathsome one, Don't you try to entrench yourself Into my stamping ground! Squatter, be off with you! The here and now slides out of focus While the sun reappears at my vernal equinox But it sears the delicate fields teeming with growth My dazed wail to soothe but the plainest distress Reluctantly conceding the soil to this paramount bane" "Control - I am the valve that controls the flow Alternate - The query to the binary response Delete - Replacement thrives best on the void After all ... it's just a matter of life It was ... just ... a matter ... of life !!"

Submitted by NecroLord — Apr 25, 2025

Madness And Her Thousand Young Oh no, she’s awake! As a pristine cupido she dwells in her abode A repellent nimbus secures her scarcely uncouth brains Thither goes my sanity ! The narcotic deluge leaves me in parched dismay Whilst I realize the nigh vortex only from afar Led astray to dance like a wincing spasm, I am trying to elude the roaring maelstrom, drawing nearer I tumble and fall into my unfathomed mind Thus it has finally arrived, My reckoning moment of truth And I am willing to do penance In every wish you speak, In every thought you think they hide On every move you make, On every breath you take they ride They are the pupils of Great Mistress Nausea They are the children of dementia, If children they are … ? Her unhinged kinship entices my abysmal zest As with diligence I ascend the close apex She will harass again! … mother ?

Submitted by Immortal — Apr 25, 2025

The Healing Process Healing by first intention: The sterile suture Disinfect - cleanse the cause Blood out, blood in, the antiseptic skin Bacteria inferior suppressed Bones and fibres restored Healing by second intention: The fibroblast boon Scars to bear, sores to soothe Cicatrices left to prove What hypertrophic granulation could not veil: The original wound is condemned to remain Protection - Restricted activity - Ice - Compression - Elevation - P-R-I-C-E - to pay ! Surgery - Concision - Autoimmunity - Recovery - Salvation - S-C-A-R-S - to stay ! Healing by no intention: The sterile future Disinform - cleanse the caustic Blot out, blow in the antisceptic sin Criteria superior oppressed Bona fide replaced To know the sickness does not imply to have the cure To know the sickness does not imply to elect the cure Masked molotov-inflammation Mental healing infra dig Redolent of vintage madness To have the sickness does not mean to get the cure !

Submitted by Finntroll — Apr 25, 2025

Finis Coronat Opus Why... Am I as naught? Would I solely be ... ... a mere collage of regrets ? Fierce melancholy, let me dare A journey to the epic within To all known pleasures and pains So would you guide me through my frescoed halls To gaze and to see what I could achieve? Let me marvel at myself as the absolute entity And carry me towards the pinnacle of knowledge My sweet child, of course I could... Although there's one thing you ought to heed Your most squalid sense shall be what I need Is that it? Nothing more? Hahaha ha, so take it from me! I choose your sense of hearing, my son As the key to your ever-verdant plains of wisdom And now betake yourself to experience majesty, hihihi Chaos distilled to a unity Impressions reduced to the fantastic I vex the gods' minds with my intelligence As I perforate the hymen of Great Alma Mater I am god - only one - ever was – and ever will be! Pitiable little imbecile, audacious and avid, If you could only listen to your equal precessors, Intoning wildly in delight: Ave Mater, Morituri Te Salutant Imbellicus Animo Creatio Ex Nihilo Cursed be my sonic reminescence! Has the leader of this pas-de-deux Been myself or treacherous you? The affection I bore you was unreturned – ama et fac quo vis Awed by your beauty and deafened by harmonies – non omnis moriar... Phrenesis Puer Ab Alma Mater Est I beg for being whole again, I pine for being sane again... Hear me....? Acta est fabula

Submitted by Immortal — Apr 25, 2025

I, Who Brought Forth Myself In deceitful hours my thoughts are threatening me Encoffined in my mind they choke my will Entwining my inherent they change my brain To the womb that incubates insanity My inner voice: A screeching, scraping choir Performing in a cranial theatre The end of act sick’s a rebirth, A climax of feelings restrained In contractious pain I give birth To my sombre self, finally unleashed Bewildered and numb I gaze at my corpus Beholding a wry cavalcade of remains At last I am victorious Over me, who brought forth myself !

Submitted by Celtic Frost — Apr 25, 2025

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Lucilinburhuc Um Fiels do steht se an stolzer Pracht A geheit hieren Schiet iwwer Bierg an Dall De Wopen démonstréiert hier Macht An hieren Numm kennt een iwwerall Et as eis Buerg a Steen geschlo'n Mat Stolz däerf s'eisen Fändel dro'n 963 erbaut Besangen mär Ons Hémecht nach haut Mam Ro'de Léiw gin ech Hand an Hand Uechter mäin schéint Lëtztebuerger Land Daat Ro'd steet fier de Buedem Daat Wäisst fier eiweg Trei Daat Bloot, daat as eis Uelzecht Eist lëtzebuerger Blutt Dräi Foarwen eis an d'Häerz gebrannt Dräi Foarwen un der Spëtzt vum Land A wann vun den Zënnen d'Fanfare ertéint Dann as de Ro'de Léiw gekréint Castellum Lucilinburhuc Lucilinburhuc

Submitted by SerpentEve — Apr 25, 2025

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