Poetry of the Ill-Minded

In the house of Lecter The table is always set for Seth Such a delicate feast is presented to the lovely folk And the host is a ghost of the past Ever-changing are his stories But no lies are told inside these walls This body is like a house Which quietly, softly decays I know the night Will bring me closer to death They say...and I'm sure that you have heard it too That human flesh is served there That might be the case But surely it is not the most fucked up thing there This body is like a house Which quietly, softly decays I know the night Will bring me closer to death You might want to think twice Before entering this house For here is the trick These tall tales become reality After you leave this old house Lived by Lecter (Am I, is it me... Who can it be... My house, my rules) And so... "Lecter" ends his tale And hands you a gift A script of your soon ending life And his stories are always fucked up Now I have to go alone Leave the scars on the face Even if the eyes would close, it's still written on me Draw the shape in half

Submitted by Nargaroth — Apr 26, 2025

I want to turn every stone And to scour every rootstock The number of possibilities is boundless In the mist Shadows entwine with spirits I see figures They tell about the space Beyond our consciousness As I step into the fog Reality blurs In the mist Shadows entwine with spirits I see figures They tell about the space Beyond our consciousness As I step into the fog Reality blurs I want to turn every stone And to scour every rootstock The number of possibilities is boundless Every path has to be explored My wandering shall never stop Fighting against the insurmountable winter But at the same time knowing that this is what I need to do Release your mind from fear Become hollow Observe from the outside The only way to see it I'm already dead They tell about the space Beyond our consciousness As I step into the fog Reality blurs

Submitted by Sexy Gargoyle — Apr 26, 2025

I follow the nocturn Observe in silence What does that make of me? Maybe I just want to follow the trail? And find something from the dark Those who walk during the day Cannot understand the yearning From the light of the stars You can gain something that will kill the thirst But just for a second Smoke will cover those rays of light And you just have to wander on In the haze of dawn The silhouettes are cast to the horizon A line drawn to the water that breaks Once you throw the first stone You can see it in the clouds if you want Or if you can bend the time In ways that the end becomes the beginning And the path is just revealing itself In pitch black you need no eyes Because you can't see a thing Smoke will cover those rays of light And you just have to wander on In the haze of dawn The silhouettes are cast to the horizon A line drawn to the water that breaks Once you throw the first stone You can see it in the clouds if you want to Or if you can bend the time In ways that the end becomes the beginning And the path is just revealing itself

Submitted by Dahmers Fridge — Apr 26, 2025

Abzinthian! So are you in or are you not? To open the knot She asked me with a smile most mesmerizing, and foul How could have I known that by accepting I would be sucked into a vortex of madness And the way out would be lost for me Until I would find the lock That was however only step one The key was buried inside a stone of goat Protected by oath that one could not conjure Without the knowledge of the nightside Oh Abzinthian, how beautiful are thy eyes And thy scent of lust drives even the strongest man insane How did I get lost in this labyrinth? The flame in the candle is flickering in the cold breeze That must be the way out But I was wrong Oh, Abzinthian you cursed me It would have been probably easier just to pull the teeth out But I guess... For you it was never an option Oh Abzinthian, how did your beauty turn so quick into cruelty? This I must ask myself before I can use the key Oh Abzinthian

Listen to what is in some ways the first great speech of the poem, in book 1 of the 12 books Satan, cast down by God to Hell with the other Rebel Angels, sees close by him One next to himself in power and next in crime. Beelzebub, Satan's lieutenant And Satan addresses him like this: "If thou beest he; But O how fall'n! How chang'd From him, who in the happy Realms of Light Cloth'd with transcendent brightness didst out-shine myriads though bright: If he Whom mutual league, United thoughts and counsels, equal hope And hazard in the Glorious Enterprise, Joined with me once, now misery hath joined In equal ruin: into what Pit thou seest From what heighth fall'n, so much the stronger prov'd He with his Thunder: and till then who knew The force of those dire Arms? Yet not for those, Nor what the Potent Victor in his rage Can else inflict, do I repent or change, Though chang'd in outward lustre; that fixed mind And high disdain, from sense of injur'd merit, That with the mightiest rais'd me to contend, And to the fierce contention brought along Innumerable force of Spirits arm'd That durst dislike his reign, and me preferring, His utmost power with adverse power oppos'd In dubious battle on the Plains of Heav'n, And shook his throne." [Paradise Lost, Book 1, 84-105, read by Ian Richardson] In flickering dreams of dark fantasies Blood is dripping down from the ceiling Taking forms that remind you about the shadows of the past But what is done now You can never take back The fallen star from the brightest light Rebellion heart at its purest. Born of flames, baptized in fire Bear chaos inside this shell of flesh. Hold the scepter, burn the eyes of your god. This is my wolf pack, you are my prey. This is my wolf pack, you are my prey. Twisted faces take form In the vapor of your window glass Demanding to know What have you done? As years go by you just wipe them away With a grin behind your mask. Your steps so malicious that flowers around you wither Steps so cold that the morning dew freezes Come taste the light of my guidance, you say But blinded are those who walk towards the light Blessed are we who dwell in the night You keep on looking for answers, but don't like the ones I can give Dig your own grave deeper and deeper Until you are in the bottom and can't reach the edge But blinded are those who walk towards the light Blessed are we who dwell in the night. "What though the field be lost? All is not lost; the unconquerable Will, And study of revenge, immortal hate, And courage never to submit or yield: And what is else not to be overcome? That Glory never shall his wrath or might extort from me. To bow and sue for grace With suppliant knee, and deify his power, Who from the terror of this Arm so late Doubted his Empire, that were low indeed, That were an ignominy and shame beneath This downfall; since by Fate the strength of Gods And this Empyreal substance cannot fail, Since through experience of this great event In Arms not worse, in foresight much advanc't, We may with more successful hope resolve To wage by force or guile eternal war Irreconcilable, to our grand Foe, Who now triumphs [...]" [Paradise Lost, Book 1, 105-123, read by Ian Richardson] You keep on looking for answers but don't like the ones I can give Dig your grave deeper and deeper Until you are in the bottom and can't reach the edge Come taste the light of my guidance, you say But blinded are those who walk towards the light Blessed are we who dwell in the night. Born of flames, baptized in fire Bear chaos inside this shell of flesh. Hold the scepter, burn the eyes of your god. This is my wolf pack, you are my prey. This is my wolf pack, you are my prey.

Submitted by Morgoth — Apr 26, 2025

The doors are sealed shut Somehow though I know how to function And what feels right The seed has been planted too deep And men won't realize it until it's too late This just cannot go on If you turn your face too many times Your neck will break And after that you see nothing It is hard to scream with a mouth full of dirt But you don't need to Because you are already free You don't need to accept any gifts Because there is no reason to celebrate Everybody just waste themselves in vain And give out parts of their souls Like they are pieces of bread Those crumbs that Hansel and Gretel left in the woods But they got lost Even though they held each other's hands One cannot lie in such things Not after you have seen how the walls are melting A moth is trying to get in Behind the window glass towards the light It does not realize that the cost is its life But that light is just too tempting That it becomes the meaning of its life Just like those scars What once was written was no more And everything that was to be written after that was absurd And the words were hanging in the air Like the first hit of acid One cannot lie in such things Not after you have seen how the walls are melting And the ground is in flames Arms full of scars And they just keep on coming The scars, they just keep on coming The scars, they just keep on coming The scars, they just keep on coming

Submitted by Dahmers Fridge — Apr 26, 2025

Curses are written on a different plane Mixed with acid And what becomes of that riddle Is a whole another story altogether How beautifully the frozen flowers shatter As fragile as life If you think about it too much You fall into a bottomless pit And just keep on falling Eternally As the sun rises the shadows flee But they flee not the light I can baptise you into a better being But you must give up the old A treasure that will destroy you But before that you are god Which side of the mirror you stand on If you stare into the limbo turn your eyes away The truth is somewhere else to be found Even the strongest chain snaps But not to break But to set free I can baptise you into a better being But you must give up the old A treasure that will destroy you But before that you are god

Submitted by The Void — Apr 26, 2025