The Horror Grandeur

I can think of a thousand ways to kill you but none so cruel as keeping you alive Ghastly horrific grandeur symphonic decadence violent strings distorted tunes on crippled wings So you og 'round and around to this, such a frightful overture a carusel of insanity and the clowns of the show are us Spread the great plague and death reeking with splendour rattle your puppet limbs to the orchestra's song A masquerade ball to which you have been summoned a gathering of the demented The clowns of the show are us the mad conductors of the horror grandeur you have gor the resemblance of a pig, young man and you shall have peace the prospect of death and the hope of hell the comedy is over

Submitted by Finntroll — Apr 26, 2025

Assailed by ever returning nightmares silent as a moths wings yet cruel and violent, a dwelling place of demons and other seemingly more tender things. But their fragile appearence deceive they come, they come, it calls surely worthy of my outmost fear ragged little dolls Tiny little feet, tiny little hands tiny little still heart shiny stearing marbled eyes Who goes there? come forth from the shadows, let me see trembling with fear but still that is my wish because no dream can ever hurt me. In the pale moonlight a most hideous face laughing hysterially, more and more yet underneath, a whitering reflection of a beauty that once was there. Awakened by screams, mu own it seems and the rumbling sound of the rain, a thin stream of blood from where her hand touched I dear not fall asleep, ever again...

Submitted by johnmansley — Apr 26, 2025

I should not mind if she were done away with killed or ploughed, she did not seem to serve a useful end and certainly she was not beautiful I have no time to tell you how I come to be a killer but you should know, as time will shown that I am society's pillar To bleed doth cheer the pensive and remove the raging fires bred by burning love.

Submitted by Corpse Defiler — Apr 26, 2025

Speak... Was I morose and break this bitter silence... grin and sombre shatter this fragile glas... I was invisible with the resonance... miserable of this voice... undetectable not mine... nothing ...or even less Lie And hide this painful truth... you tear the cold reality... who sit upon a throne the reptile's tongue... in the ruin of my soul with many voices... I make myself scream... dreadful icons you... to worship who steal my sight... scream and cloud my thoughts... to awake the demons allready so blurred... of lunacy by you I am possesed... the beast in my blood Alas, my heart harbours two souls and a thied face I wear on the outside

Submitted by Celtic Frost — Apr 26, 2025

They shed their precious tears wept the loss of life the absence of bright days unable to see the beauty of death so elegantly decayed In long ranks they marched surely towards peril and doom and the orchestra played a desolate song as they willingly went to their tomb A miserable pack of wrecked souls all danced to the ghastly graveyard bell a funeral theatre a heavenly play but the stage is set in hell It is for creatures of divine origin a story allready told but still this horrid painful drama is hideous to behold Disease, disease, disease and pain by dementia and fever made sick

Submitted by Finntroll — Apr 26, 2025

Worms o conquering worms deep in the reeking dirt the horror, the pain the shreak of the flesh the loneliness of the grave The shattering sound of the cemetery bell the silent mourners, and the cold rain as well ashes to ashes, dust to dust dead and forgotten, flesh foul and rotten this grave has no tales to tell O gruesome death, reaper eyes darker than the deepest well sinking deeper and deeper surely all the way to hell Bells, bells, ionfernal bells in a cold black grave I lay demons howl a crippled song, of my flesh and its decay.

Submitted by MetalElf — Apr 26, 2025

And one night when the moon was full and its silver spears pierced her mournful heart gently up the creaking stairs allready more dead than alive Weak and weary pale and cold blood still flowing si it is told At the top she dropped to the floor just outside my bedroom door silent as a dying day with a whimper she passed away tis said from shadows grey devild come to take her away as her sin made heaven reject her hell set out to resurrect her born of evil and all that may dwell in the darkest, the deepest of hell so tis told in these here parts the devils bride she became when hell took her heart centuries ago, maybe more still she comes to my bedrrom door

Submitted by NecroGod — Apr 26, 2025