13 ian. 2009


Unlock The Shrine Between Bronze Walls As poisoning light Ignores my futile desire for sleep I find myself surrounded by mirrors Blinding me With this abhorrent colour With my abhorrent flesh With their abhorrent grin This must be the most raging maelstrom The deepest climax My saviour, my mere witness indeed I perceive your presence Yet, you cannot approach... This hell is mine I shall die between bronze walls. __________ Skeleton Coast Nocturnal skeleton coast Where dead cattle is washed ashore To molest the mind of this immaculate race Oh man, ye high spirits have evoken The extermination of all that has been Will you pray when the storms come? __________ Euphoria When The Bombs Fell They all danced, my heroine Unaesthetically To the war opera I was proud to start a killing spree With you We darkened the scenery All the grief, All the tragedies of your horrible loss Have been channelled Into an orgasmic carnage As all collapsed We died in murderous bliss. __________ The Clockhand's Groaning Circles Clutching a giant lance of brass Within a storm that rushes silently Through a hallway of mirrors Drafts and visions deform me Poisoned air burns into wounds: The missing entrails - Left behind when my waste was creeping to life - Hurt and bleed Festering from wounds That time has torn That brass feasts upon In a rhythm, in a melody Destructive and discordant And finally mute, when the eyes awake Behind the senile web... These trembling hands won’t save my ears From deafness These crippled thoughts won’t save my soul From death. __________ Summer Decapitation Ritual A market place in medieval summer heat A guillotine prepared for amusement of god and his crowd Shouting their annual menace (Into) the cruel vacuum rapdily descending Desiring death to anticipate the doom divine, the temptation, his triumph Thus, as no martyr I burn (at) the cross With lack of strength to climb out of the white abyss again Behead me! For at the depths of this spiral Even death cannot disburden me of life. __________ Unlock The Shrine How horrible your face has become within this prison I smell your steps on the wooden floor again So desperate to keep them silent... you are mine With all your masochistic desire Invoke and fight me again Sow your suicidal seed Inhale your schizophrenia Suffer from your faded mind Unlock the shrine Release me Will I kill us? (Will you kill us?) Will I release us? (Will you release us?) As salt rains into your wounds you lose your sight and clench your fists You mourn at the drought of your heart, the stench of urine and mould You will crawl before me on this wooden floor Let the splinters cut you and free the mass that binds us You will drivel and howl at this merciless rain... These doors will close for you again. __________ The Mine Until these tunnels shall become our grave We dwell with the poets The eerie echoes of shameful choirs Howl deep within here Sounds of harm from where the stillborn graze Standing armed without a strategy In a war that never should have been declared Eyes adapted to perpetual dawn The trembling march of the offensive pack With the bark of the hounds Our final rhyme shall be composed We await this, our time When the foul screams of agony will sound through the mine. Rain Upon The Impure 50 Forts Along The Rhine An old failure is redressed Barred is all sight into the West Not to let us foresee what is brewing there Ripple... Silence is deceptive Hooves of iron paw An ancient silent fog To blur our castles’ silhouettes To hide the gathering troops Black fleets explore the northern lines Fifty forts along the Rhine Fuming clefts cross Westphalia Command from Castra Vetera It was late at night when the bugle call resounded And blew forth a red storm To bear squadrons of Southern aggressors Transcending our silent banks now so rageous Ploughing the valleys in slobbering droves Foes in Sugambria! The ancient map is redrawn in blood Led by our once insurmountable waters We learnt that war has become art Within three years of suffering and barbarism Lamentamur Germaniam Inferiorem! The Northern eyesight is extinguished The Western limbs are dead The Southern torso is crippled East cannot defend. __________ Soliloquy Of The Stigmatised Shepherd How long have I been wandering uphill? My lord, did you paint these meadows? They are colourless Roar... agonizing distant noise Look at me I kneel down before thee Bow my head Cover my ears Weep... This soil did never alter in two thousand years I wonder if it is you who hunts them - Or are they following me...? This is a burden I was never taught to heave... To you I implore, oh father! Take this noise away from me! Save me! Father, make (of) me the seed for a silent meadow Limp as a doomed horse I resume my way In tears, on chafed limbs There is no herb to be laid Upon the stigmata of immortality’s burden Father, make (of) me the seed for a silent meadow. __________ Blood Vaults (I: Thy Virginal Malodour) Red moon returns... For the blood that dried on the dungeon walls For centuries of insidious estrangement That witnessed a slow disfigurement of pale faces Unfamiliar with perversions to desecrate Their pious deeds Red moon returns... To rip open the scars of the soul that vowed Laid bare for burning Like a process of moult Sanctified flesh breeds dense crimson fume And reeks... An eerie procession Descending into darkness godforsaken Intoning solemn psalms of sadism and malevolence Sing to sleep tormented bodies that writhe in horror Leave flesh ghastly perished, and screams fading unheard Red moon returns... Lets the mind be swallowed That addicts to claustrophobia Thus it is written in unread books... And may the bells awake the residual days Merely wounds are to be licked That weep with blood, not with wine. __________ Soil Of The Incestuous I am The wandering moon and sun The rabbit and the snake The virgin and the rapist My shadow The path of the mind’s eye shall never bifurcate... I enter The church and the graveyard The storms and the rainbows The soul and the flesh My shadow The path of the mind’s eye shall never bifurcate... I suffer The rotten lower skin The wandering moon and sun The sin and altruism My shadow (...painfully roaming the soil of the incestuous...) The bloom will fail to come I wear reflected scars Until I smash the mirror. __________ Balnaa-Kheil The Bleak My nakedness shall not ignite your lust... ...trespasser... Here, at the absolute end of your withered romances Heralds of the Great Jörmungand break at the North Massif And becloud your dwarfish horizon... __________ Rain Upon The Impure You who first cast the stone Are you adorned with wings? How could you silently suffer The sight of your dreams’ wreckage? Creature... Your harvest is poor Your soul bleeds Your eyes won’t ever see When the bread is broken Wounds are nailed into your palms You who first cast the stone Where is the splendour That once you wore so proudly? Creature... Your limbs are weak Your path is short Your breath is putrid When the wine is offered Disgust is drying up your throat You who are without sin Who was to block the left hand path When it became the last resort? Actress... Your speech is mute Your tunes are sad Your voice will die down awfully The day heaven laments your failure With noise of rain (lashing down) upon the impure.

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