Wijlen Wij

L'anathème est prononcé Noyée de brumes Noyée de larmes

Submitted by BloodShrine — Apr 24, 2025

Wie herinnert ons nu aan onze half vervaagde zonden? Met ogen wijd geopend, zullen we de slaap nooit meer vatten De schimmen zullen ons nimmer meer verlaten In stilte zijn ze weer aan ’t bloeden, onze oude en diepe wonden Ons geluk was van korte duur; menige zwarte nacht Hebben we hier doorgebracht onder een treurige kruis In de afwezigheid van leven voelden wij ons eindelijk thuis God sta ons toch bij, nu de oude hel weer op ons wacht! Wijlen wij, vervloekt in ons bestaan Heb meelij met ons die eenzaam verkwijnen Bittere woorden van zelfhaat mijmerend, terwijl onze lichamen vergaan Wijlen wij, zelfs vervloekt in onze dood Laat ons de duisternis omhelzen terwijl het niets ons verslindt We zweren het op onze verdorven ziel: iets anders hebben we nooit gewild....

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Apr 24, 2025

L'anathème est prononcé Noyée de brumes Noyée de larmes Les gens ils marchent, ils marchent

Submitted by Nargaroth — Apr 24, 2025

Rotten leaves, naked trees lost light, gone from the sky barren and cold waste an all engulfing darkness my body lays silent yet I'm wandering alone my strength and courage All idle in this world lingering shadows hostile, hopeless woe contorted images my breath, no life, no warmth This shapeless void Alas ... no relief, no joy Chilling cold gales and no path to choose This desolate dantesque hell Flowers wither as I pass by Birdsongs killed by the cold knell All falling stars on crimson skies

Submitted by Corpse Defiler — Apr 24, 2025

Trapped in cold decaying flesh. There is another world in here. Another mind in control. Trapped in dead withering flesh. I should not be – but still am. Trapped in this mental hell. Aware of the emptiness. Aware of the cold. Touching the everlasting.

Submitted by Finntroll — Apr 24, 2025

I’ve died and they build BRIDGES all over my dead corpse They don’t seem to have much RESPECT For the remains of a dead warrior Why can’t they see that my wounds are still bleeding? Why can’t they see that my limbs are still aching? Their soldiers build bridges on my dead body With mortar and clay I felt betrayed that my corpse was not HONOURED For years and years I stood like a mountain Sheltering them from the winds Fighting against their many enemies Wounded on the cold ground I laid Wreckage, abandoned by everyone Wasted by centuries of solitude Eternally damned… But down on my knees I prayed And on the seventh day she came Angel heaven sent…cold water for my dried lips Hear my call, I speak with Ancient Tongue Take my suffering; erase me from the face of this earth A new era has begun; the King has arisen from his slumber! Like a bird freed from its cage Like the prayer of a wounded soul My spirit flies towards the sun…

Submitted by Finntroll — Apr 24, 2025