Voices from the stake

Pyre Adieu

Thank you for inviting me
to your village witch-fry
I am touched to see so many
have come to see me die

To curse you lo these happy years
gave me such great pleasure
making real your cherished fears
sweet memories I will treasure

I promise to resume my terror
just as soon as we are done
you will pay for your grievous error
but for now let’s have some fun

I swoon, overcome with emotion
to observe your glee positively ardent
know this, online I found a potion
now like kid’s pajamas
I am flame-retardant

Yes,
You may
Now burn me
To ash but that
Would only be the
Start of a curse that I
Have placed on all the women
Of this village by having my
Incubus demon servant invade
Their dreams and fuck them all into madness!

Fed up with performing for little shits
And dressing up like Gandalf the Grey
I think they tied me up those little gits
After I passed out yesterday

Woke hungover eyes feeling gritty
After another work-related binge
And before I can start to feel shitty
Smell my beard begin to singe

This is the last kids party I ever do
As I struggle against the makeshift stake
Realise these words are so true
Maybe I should have enjoyed that last cupcake

WTF, struggle to no avail
Those little fucks tied me up good
They laugh as I begin to flail
Shit I thought this was decent neighbourhood

Unimpressed with my magic tricks
Cos the birthday barbeque also sucked
These entitled kids behave like pricks
With nipples burning guess I’m fucked

Little do they know I had a phall last night
Bloated with my methane store
And now they set my ass alight
Now it’s time to settle the score

BOOM!!!

Howdya like that magic trick

To Ashes Again

From ashes I came
Now to ashes again
Woe to you spectators
As i ascend in the flames

Not in surrender
Nor in total defeat
I fall today
But I'll be back on my feet

And the horrors before
Will simply be a play
Compared to what is coming
Amongst you to stay

In mercy I reigned
A compassionate lord
But no longer will that be
I will bath in blood

From ashes I came
Now to Ashes again
Woe to you spectators
Ponder on the pain

I'll bring on my return
A horror no lip can tell
For now I ascend
To return with the host of hell

And merciless I shall cast
The worst of my spell
Sadness to the happy
Sickness to the Well

Ashilla...fashilla...tashilla...bashilla;
Oh sweet Master accept my soul
In kindness remake me from ashes again
Then unleash me on another deadly parole

Melt


The pain, it sears, hot;
a million torches claiming
my every neuron—

but it compares not
to the hurt of betrayal
of Gaul that loved me.

I am still Jeanne D’Arc,
neither witch nor sparrow’s wings—
I no longer fly,

though I am held high
by the one, true God, I serve,
and now my soul soars.

Return

   In her white gown, barefoot in the streets she walks
  With eyes closed as if dreaming of vengeance
 Her sentence was to burn at the stake
But this is the preacher’s daughter
This must be some kind of…
 But that morning the devils came out
  Serrated teeth underneath in facades of saints
   Rooster heads watching silently as the others yelled

   She was beautiful with light complexion and dark hair
  Full pouting lips with delicate but decadent eyes
 She was picture perfect, lustful innocence
Desired by many until that night
The witch, she was a virgin…
 So they cast devious stares and insults
  Along with cries of “heathen”; those savages
   The girl had been judged and condemned overnight

Still she said nothing, with eyes downcast
Tears ran down her soft cheeks like morning dew
Still some of them watched amid the mob
The daemons were the ones that knew the truth

As they tied her with her hands behind
She began to quake with fear

They lit the fire and she began to cry out loud
As the crowd cursed her for what she had done
Her soft skin began to blister and open with sores
She shrieked in pain as the flames went higher

Until at last, when her lungs filled with smoke
She broke in the midst of blood curling screams
And foaming at the mouth she spoke
But in a foreign tongue
With a dual voice, of an old man and a little girl:

Ego promitto revertetur,
Maledictus animae,
Ponam sepulchrum tuum in lusibus
Ponam sepulchrum tuum in mingit
In tenebris,
Sentire iram meam,
In infernis arderet,
In infernis arderet!

thebladeartist said:Fed up with performing for little shits
And dressing up like Gandalf the Grey
I think they tied me up those little gits
After I passed out yesterday

Woke hungover eyes feeling gritty
After another work-related binge
And before I can start to feel shitty
Smell my beard begin to singe

This is the last kids party I ever do
As I struggle against the makeshift stake
Realise these words are so true
Maybe I should have enjoyed that last cupcake

WTF, struggle to no avail
Those little fucks tied me up good
They laugh as I begin to flail
Shit I thought this was decent neighbourhood

Unimpressed with my magic tricks
Cos the birthday barbeque also sucked
These entitled kids behave like pricks
With nipples burning guess I’m fucked

Little do they know I had a phall last night
Bloated with my methane store
And now they set my ass alight
Now it’s time to settle the score

BOOM!!!

Howdya like that magic trick



fuckin luv

GRANDMOTHER WITCH                        My great great great great great Grandmother was a witch, and she revelled in it. Well, according to her dusty journals, and court documents                                     My inheritance claimed all her treasures, junk to untrained, uncaring eyes. Held within their oak prisons.                                                   Something else apparent is that while she was not a good person, she was charming and a hell a lot of fun. Grandmother had found the Dark Lord late in life.                              Her papery folds and luminous plumpness defy her age, wetted by her lusty dew. Murder gave her a youthful shine, red lips sucking life from many husbands livestock.                The Master seen differently by all, Grandmothers views old fashioned.   Fire, sulphur, horns and hooves.            "Every self respecting witch or warlock must have a deep well, coupled with a heavy lid, chains are the style of the day, made of obsidian. Quick disposal included."        Undone by her sin, to ravish the mayor. Little to do with money or power, just a man so well endowed is hard to find!                                     A shame his wife was a Lady of the Order and Grandmother lit up the night in no time at all.                     Whispered on her ashes to the lady of the light, "I wonder if your sons are as tasty as their Pa?"                      A mistress of the dark always has the last laugh.      

I love your poem  visual  words just creep up on you,Bravo

Excellent poem creatively done very witchery cool

.. ..

Absence of the light eternal my black patron
Getting off the Witch will be Melted station
his dark voice whisper's unholy trust
Victorian Goth leading him to EE-rie extinct path
Darker the night waxy spacey Darth
Occultist Vixen not to trust
__________needing more_____________
Pulsating temple's Witch symphonic allure
Wicked chest rises attempting to broom his chase
Condemned spell engraved case
Lights fall lead my way dark witch shadow
I became his prey euphoria spell moon sky
Sitting in the dungeon @ the table
Witchery broomish dressed plates
Witches teeth chilled chattered
My last prayer ashes felt scattered
 Prayer of death
Dark moths of a wreath
Eye's fixated down at the plate
It spoke the word burn beside me
Another plate It said your turn B me
Looked down and down hell
Witches hole bread went stale
 My plate said invitation went dead
Witch is in your vein Torture flaming
Sorcerer defeat mind control gaming
whispered words wimpering BURN Vixen Burn
Whose next  reads the last line
Your Eyes are the witch.it's U....

Bloody Wanker.