The Suns of Perdition – Chapter II: Render Unto Eden
"He who learns must suffer And even in our sleep pain That cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart And in our own despair, against our will Comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God." - Aeschylus In great denial When they shuffle off this mortal coil In great denial Through the dark and bloody ground In great denial Sworn to sing the corrupter's din In great denial And with hubris comes the fall Drifting across the rippling wall On the dark and bloody ground Came to me: This rock for which I'm bound, the wind I fear won't hear me And alas, in a crippling sway All life bent towards the light In great denial Cursеd the land of the ploughman's toil In great dеnial In flood and in famine In great denial He too sings the corrupter's din In great denial And with hubris comes the fall Drifting across the rippling wall On the dark and bloody ground, came to me on the rock I'm bound: The wind I fear won't hear me The ploughmen will bless his toil And alas, in a crippling sway All life bent towards the light Болью, болью (With pain, with pain) Дышит тело мое (My body still breathes,) Обреченно (So fatefully,) Пашем полотно черно. (We plough the canvas of black.) Иссохли воды (Waters're dried up) Под палящим зноем (Under the scorching sun,) Плоть истерзанну (Our worn-out flesh is drunk) Поим гноем рваных мозолей. (with the pus of our torn corns.) Зри! (Behold!) Мы ползем змеей (We crawl like a snake) По усопшему телу (over the mortal remains) Земли! (Of the earth!) В мучениях вечных (Suffering over and over,) Тащим камень тартара (We're dragging Tartarus' stone.) Замри! (Hold still!) Во мраке надежды (In the darkness of hope) Вечно жаждущей света (Striving for ever - towards the light!) Мы две змеи (We're two snakes) На извечной тропе (On the eternal path) Круговой колеи! (Of a circular track!) Круговой колеи... (Of a circular track...)
Submitted by Nargaroth — Jun 04, 2026
“The God who made iron grow did not need slaves." A maniacal forge seeds the tempter and triangulates the sin, the madness and the fury. Where one abandons all hope. At a funeral for the sun; They will dement the divide. Into a world of sin, of shit - in schism - the man will seek the angel at the bottomless pit Vanquished ground From birth till rigor mortis The vultures damn the hive to the wreaking hole Descension bound Where lust defines the order Till the mass grave that sends the defeated man to the madhouse And a testament to his ruin; Absent the fruits of patient toil He will never lick the wounds a disease that heightens the senses In a world of sin, of shit - but in schism - One gets harder in time And if destruction be our lot, be it the glory of the slaves Vanquished ground From birth till rigor mortis The vultures damn the hive to the wreaking hole Descension bound Where lust defines the order Voidward shines the suns of perdition Yetzer Hara - Yetzer Hara - Yetzer Hara Victor or vanquished What defines loss? Twisted in irony; Encroaching manifest destiny The sick divine glory infinitesimal trappings Weaponize the ages The Faustian pact is all that the ground may give back. And bound by it's own gaze, was lost and all that the sun made was cast on their iron graves
Submitted by Nargaroth — Jun 04, 2026
Madness makes a man, and what breaks him Like a shadow unto which no light may ever shine Time flees, though eternity dwells Yet "the very truth he holds becomes his heresy." A most righteous act of rebellion By right of twisted virtue The sun is not so bright to itself as to those on whom it shines Time flees, though eternity dwells Yet "the very truth he holds becomes his heresy." The just war must be dеcided, but the chorus will not come And cast in thеir crooked smiles is narcissism masking as virtue Some truths are worth it for their own sake But they will cannibalize their own Before they let the heretic be heard You may never cheat this mountain The just war must be decided, but the chorus will not come And cast in their crooked smiles is narcissism masking as virtue Some truths are worth it for their own sake But they will cannibalize their own Before they let the heretic be heard
Submitted by Nargaroth — Jun 04, 2026
"In our world there will be no emotions except fear, rage, triumph, and self-abasement ... there will be the intoxication of power. ... Always, at every moment, there will be the thrill of victory, the sensation of trampling on an enemy who is helpless. If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face--forever." Man--like earth--both flower and decay Tyrants and men of ideals feign the black-eyed children. Till plight and injustice wakes this earth, to galvanize them to sacrifice and abnegation; ripe are the fools and the damned who have longed for a promised land. In the heap of temptations, hope would mark the ruins "The tree of knowledge is not that of life." And so he grinds his own hands Where there was never justice for all There is a stain of perspective In those expiring eyes When he mines his own helm And serves for the greater glory arm the angels Bedevilled by our lesser judgment And another man will die; It is practically what he is here for And they will fly their flags at half mast As if this would imply justice Never pitied, they will make this mistake again, and again - the damned deny the ages, and the greatest of ironies: Our enlightenment would rise; And with it, the vileness of man "The tree of knowledge is not that of life." And so he grinds his own hands Where there was never justice for all There is a stain of perspective In those expiring eyes When he mines his own helm And dies for the greater glory It is seldom the days in the dark When he defines his own hell But in the violent wake of the wise Where the rabid dog dies Taring at the roots, where the rats beckon asunder "Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler; and the noisome pestilence." But these men are left disturbed, yet again It is seldom the days in the dark When he defines his own hell But in the rotted wake of the light Where the parasite dies There is no redemption arc in the records of eternal truths. Just an endless sequence of cross-currents to the terminus of all paradises lost
Submitted by Nargaroth — Jun 04, 2026
"The words of one of my favourite poets, Ernest Dowson are quite often with me, 'Non sum qualis eram / I'm not as I was.' And though I know as well as you do that there is no point in arguing about the actual date or time of departure because I'd like to think there would be no good time - I hope you'll agree with that. Something I urgently thought I ought to do or say - and one mustn't supine or give into self-pity about that, but at this moment I have to say, I feel very envious of someone who is young and actively starting out in this argument. In the meantime, we have the same job we've always had; which is to say - as thinking people and as humans - that there are no final solutions, there is no absolute truth, there is no supreme leader, there is no totalitarian solution that says if you will just give up your freedom of inquiry - if you will just give up - if you will simply abandon your critical faculties, a world of idiotic bliss can be yours. We have to begin by repudiating all such claims; grand rabbis, chief ayatollahs, infallible popes, the pedlars of surrogate and mutant quasi-political religion and worship; the dear leader, the great leader, we have no need of any of this; And looking at them and their record, and the pathos of their supporters, I realize that it is they who are the grand impostors, and my own imposture this evening was mulled by comparison. Thank you very much." - The last public speech by Christopher Hitchens (1949-2011) There is a guilt reserved for that fearful day In great denial, I will say no more I will reserve that shame for the thieves and whores In great denial, I will say no more There is a silence that comes eventually In great denial, I will say no more There is no longer a reason to laugh But what do you have to lose when you're pissing into the wind?
Submitted by Nargaroth — Jun 04, 2026