Black Plasma Armour
Phase I – Depression Once again, I stand on the frozen ground of earth. My fingers freeze in the clear coldness of the night. A tear that falls reaches the ground crystalized. I wish myself out of here, high above all human existence. “Beyond human existence” for me means finally escaping the battle of feelings. And although I love to feel, the pain is constantly growing. Phase II: Conclusion When I end physically, the memory of me will fade more and more until my former life is only fleeting significance in the thoughts of others. That is not the solution. The path must be a different one. My body adorned with stones and chains. Tearing at the flesh, grueling in the spirit. And yet I never broke down. All these experiences of being human, immortalized in the hardest of stones. By my hand and force, by blunt force. Phase III - Solution a man with reason - the philosopher There are moments in life that you cannot deny. Moments when you think about cremating all human life, and forgetting. But what use is this clarity and conscientiousness if one only crouches motionless? I have lost my face in a distant world. Now finally I arrived spiritually. Here, where the gold of the sun of the evening slowly gives way to the heaviness of dark mood. Phase IV – taking action I now slowly emerge from black earth. Deeds and thoughts, like black mud from old days encloses me, crumbles down at me. My journey of building my armour is complete! Never really extinguishes the fire of the past. Never will my will fade away. I will burn in black! Black Plasma Armour!
Submitted by Nargaroth — Jun 18, 2026
The last one of the human race standing on top of a mountain made of dust. And the last human thoughts surrounded by constructs of steel. His brain – gleaming electrified His veins – small rivers of electrons His glance – breaks through and penetrates all being, but simultaneously sees nothing Because there' s nothing left what once was essence. Refused all purity to get a vision from himself. Improvement, futuristic perfection and domination rushed man into self- made slavery Its artificial hands, made out of wires and silicon holding all that’s left, Its only connection to its origin: a branch of black wood, as long dead as its memories. No beauty is recognized, just transience and death. Staring down at the last piece of nature.
Submitted by Nargaroth — Jun 18, 2026
And here I am again in a place so inconspicuous to most people's eyes I am here again to manifest my will My will - centered in a small wooden piece. A piece of nature, and of cosmos indeed. Encourage me with fulfilling devotion in all things that come and that I do - with conviction. Under this the power of my star shimmers a creating and (at the same time) destroying light. So hear my will, oh cosmos, oh chaos. To banish my strength in a piece of wood, formed from conviction. Give me the strength to strive on and on, no matter how hard times may be, O Cosmos! Give me the power to shake and burn my enemies down to the core, oh Chaos! To triumph and crush them. My pain - my enemies' eternal shame. Always forward, with the power of the star and the darkness of the heart within me! So it shall be! My will is done! Hail Cosmos! Hail Chaos! Create and destroy!
Submitted by Nargaroth — Jun 18, 2026
Sonne, wenn du wieder sinkst, lass bloß dein Licht nicht hier. Durch beißend Rauch zum Aschefest. Kläglich, tanzend, figürlich Funkenrest unter gedankenfressendem Firmament, dessen Rot nur feurig Tod, kein Gefühl, keine Bindung oder Liebe kennt. Ewig Feuer brennen, vernichten ohne die Welt zu kennen. Im Angesicht deines finalen Lebenskampfes. Weltsein durch Sprache verkannt, geklammert an die größte Heuchlerkunst, denn durch Moral verurteilt ihr. „Die Einweihung in das Nichts – und in die Lächerlichkeit des Lebendigseins“. E. M. Cioran Strahlen blitzten unter dem Rand hervor. (Impuls für den Kreislauf des Inneren) Kraft in gleißendem Gewand verziert. Das Antlitz und das Leben riefen nach dir. Verherrlicht als Erschaffer – Vernichter in wahrer Gestalt. Dein bringend Lebensglanz letztlich bloß gedanklicher Nachhall auf Papier. „Und ich träume von einem Eleusis der abgeklärten Herzen, von einem Mysterium ohne Götter und ohne das Ungestüm der Illusion“ E. M. Cioran Verkohlt verschränkte Arme dienen bloß noch zum Gebet, bis in den Tod. Ihr heuchelt Göttlichem und verkennt alles Leben, egal wie kläglich es fleht. Feuer kennt keinen Neid. Der sich daraus befreit, ist der Einzige, der versteht, warum das Rad in weißem Gleißen wird zurückgedreht... ...und blickt nicht zurück, wenn er versteht. Pegel der Energie beschreibt das Ob und Nie. Wer sich als Gott versteht, das Naturgesetz verdreht. Begehrst das Jetzt und Hier und übergibst dein Leben ihr. Erschaffer wie Vernichter, mit Plasma schreibt der Feuerdichter. Gleichzeitigkeit – Augenblick herrlichen Strebens, das, was Zeit ist, wegzugeben. Wenn Aschefall bedeckt das Zeitmessutensil, verkündets todesglühend: Schwäche tilgt vergilbtes Leben.
Submitted by Nargaroth — Jun 18, 2026
The poem starts with a metaphoric location. The place of its origin, his birth in mind: The Candlelight Crossfields. There where souls of the burned past lives are sparkling like glitter. In the center of the fields, in the middle of the cross of flaming light, he intonates his call of moaning, a poem of yearning. “Oh, I beg you all, don’t stop living because of your arrogance and pride! Both are feeding me, through both I see thou bleeding! Through fire I say what is might? Through fire you’re defining what’s right!” Writing follows the spell, writing words of purest yearning. Its words in touch with our minds, concerning the way we live, the reason for what we strive. QUINTESSENCE “You went away from the path of galactic fire. My being is the effect of your action, nameless destruction.” “I now close the ritual. Through my poem you hypnotized yourself for the next decades to come. Never to be of galactic fire anymore. Never in touch with the fires beneath you, but fed by the fires that please you. I am anywhere, I will ever be. Inside you there’s the reason for change, but read my words dictated with fingers of plasma in the rock called heart.”
Submitted by Nargaroth — Jun 18, 2026
Being human – nature’s final act. “Imperfection” is the title of the history of the myth of man. Deep and near our hearts we carry the sun. Its glistening took away the first pain from all of us. So do the first step onward, the dazzled way of life. Uncertainty is always close to us, it’s another kind of pain. Bathing in and exploring its depths is the inclination of all of us. Thereby I hope to state my own light is really mine to be. What’s the result of trying, to understand myself and my being? Originated to shine, towards realization. The will to choose. To explore ways which surround me in weird spirals. If once again my existence chaotically is caught in structures and in the chaos of life. Striving is nothing if the trip pushes me once again into a black hole. OMNE LUMEN POTEST EXTINGUI. (all light can be extinguished) INTELLECTUS EST LUMEN. (The mind / reason is a light) INTELLECTUS POTEST EXTINGUI. (The mind / reason can be extinguished) Arthur Schopenhauer No matter in which way I see situations turning and turning. No matter becauseI act how I do. My mind’s always asking for black, white and all end.
Submitted by Nargaroth — Jun 18, 2026