Infernal Decadence

The devil’s eye, prised, excised, burned from the skulls of witches Woods from which once the spirits so loudly howled The work is done by spiel and apparatus But God is silent, while people chatter Conjurer – VNVNHVX Make of me a weapon, make me a vessel of proof One by one we go into the dark The movement itself is the only truth Before the light, before law, the carnal drama unfolds Beneath the gaze, the scalpel speaks what the body withholds Witch war! The world unwound by spiel and apparatus But Nature is silent, while people chatter.

Submitted by Sexy Gargoyle — Apr 26, 2025

This inspired witchery, it speaks in tongues Of cryptic longing, A riddled offering I made the dark descent. The moon was visible amidst scattered, pale-edged clouds The cold blue sea beckons The sky is the throne of fear I am part of this darkness I am part of this void This cryptic, witching grammar This Black Satanic Glamour I made the dark descent Through which the fear of any and every thing Awakens into self knowledge I am part of this darkness This Black Satanic Glamour This inspired witchery It speaks in tongues too old to know Giving form, bringing forth This Black Satanic Glamour This black celebration

Conquering hero, bastard son of gods Furtive behind your mirror Stalking dread cthonic visions But you dare not meet their gaze Trust not the mirror but the mask An aspect ne'er beheld, Beheaded all the same In shadows, Medusa, O gorgon, O sun In poison flown from her opened gorge A scarlet plane of immanence One thousand flowers bloom Did you wonder not what torrent forced its deluge here? By what brutal rite the sea defiled? To what end, this venom blessed These tresses serpentine? By what violence forged These locks that curl and writhe? By what wry hex this sisterhood aligned? Let us labrys-crack the brow of Zeus once more See what bright horrors issue forth O monster, Medusa, O gorgon, O sun

Submitted by BloodShrine — Apr 26, 2025

My father, change my name The one I’ve used til now is covered with fear and filth and cowardice and shame I, mangled not by the maw, but by the slip, The cunning writhe by which the jaws were prised O, the gulf that lies Between the sign of man And this feral fire I know the howl, I know the hound Fleeing from the trap, into the hunter’s jaws It comes for me, hunting Over moors Though thorn and gorse Feral footsteps fall Like a summons to all my foolish blood It’s coming through the trees Across the gulf that lies Betwixt, between the sign of man And this feral fire Over chasm’d distance it comes for me Over moors Through thorn and gorse Feral footsteps fall You are the scent I follow always Hunting after God

Submitted by NecroLord — Apr 26, 2025

Into forests boreal, Abies balsamea Seeking meaning, finding nothing but a frozen reflection A tyrant restored to the throne, ringed by his mewling sons Pater Dominis, cling to the hem of his robe What succour do you hope awaits in the mountains dark and cold? The comforting embrace of divinities of old? Embattled - So fragile New skin for old ritual Into forests boreal beyond the Taiga shield Plutôt la nature morte… Dans la nuit froide de l'oubli

Submitted by Sexy Gargoyle — Apr 26, 2025

Echoed words once misheard Yet poignant all the same Legions marching onward singing: “Let an impure blood flow in our veins!” Let this be our cry, Herald our dark desires Tremble, before the rising tide Tremble, this is your falling night: Half devil, half child You would presume to build this man of blood and soil, But deny the tangled matter of edaphon and flesh? Deny the tangled matter on which it rests? Numberless like the sands of the sea, To wash away this whited sepulchre, this sanguine myth Embrace your final thanatotic bliss Embrace your end.

Submitted by Morgoth — Apr 26, 2025