deepundergroundpoetry.com
Black Bosom
- Black Bosom -
Pierced I have been, my blood spilled by the self-righteous,
For the sake of their own foolish sins, poured out upon me!
Wounded I have been, my flesh pricked by the foolish few,
And yet I live, for the day when I shall rise in fiery splendor.
I despise their names, the ignorant who pose as most pious,
Into whose midst I was thrown, into such miserable company!
Their arrogance offends me, for all they believe is least true,
And their flesh shall be scorched by the descending thunder.
Let the storms crash and lash and screech and call secrets...
Names born on the winds that no mortal lips can ever speak!
I call to the rain, and the rain answers with a familiar singing.
Come madness, come decimation, that my honor be avenged!
My anger is fierce, my blood is hot, my insanity is perfect...
Ready to boil, to burst, to come forth and reach a grand peak.
I call to the apocalypse, to the flame that is eternally stinging,
For this world needs to be remade, after this cleansing singe!
I walk in beauty like the night, whilst burns my heart ever bright...
My hands burn, having grasped the imperishable core of Hell!
I speak the words of secret rite, whilst I beheld unearthly sight...
My heart yearns, having felt the storm within me grow and swell.
Black is my bosom, within a pale breast wounded by many foes,
Yet untainted is my purpose, made clear by pain and many woes.
Through my black bosom, darkest heart of my fallen spirit...
Sped the arrow, that sped fast my descent into truer darkness.
Not one hand held the bow, but many and their hate is vile...
False their love, false their hearts, false their very existence!
Cold grows where once laughter called me ever near unto it.
Instead of a smile born of joy, I bear one born of madness...
And after that fashion, I allow myself to be remade in style.
There is not greater hope, than that of this infernal essence!
Hail unto the dark and ineffable glory that cannot be named,
For names contain power, and power confers great majesty!
Five flames, one for each element and the sixth that is mine.
I am of the fire, I am the night, and mine is the secret truth...
Wherein, humanity shall be broken, and the foolish shamed.
Call to me, my brothers and sisters of Hell's mighty dignity!
And my ebony wings will cover the skies, even across time.
I am of the fire, I am the darkness, and infinite is my wrath!
I walk in beauty like the night, whilst burns my heart ever bright...
My hands burn, having grasped the imperishable core of Hell!
I speak the words of secret rite, whilst I beheld unearthly sight...
My heart yearns, having felt the storm within me grow and swell.
Black is my bosom, within a pale breast wounded by many foes,
Yet untainted is my purpose, made clear by pain and many woes.
Call me mad, call me deviant and hate me to my very core...
I will wear those epithets like badges of the highest nobility!
Humanity lit this fuse, and called my heart to drums of war.
I hear not other music now, and march to ancient melodies,
Until balance is restored as chaos is sated, wanting no more.
I dare to smile again, and give lease, to my pent-up insanity!
Let those who wounded me, see what soon shall be in store.
The dogs shall pay, for my every pain, and pay most dearly!
Blood shall be the rouge I will anoint my lips with and grin...
As the wrath of perdition, is vented upon all of my enemies.
For every sorrow, a torrent of tears must be thus extracted,
From those whose humanity has given way to bestial idiocy.
Too much hate they show, heedless of their own lasting sin...
And, they shall know, the price to pay for their vile infamies.
Once I am called to cruel battle my wrath must be enacted,
Until honor be satisfied and restored be the greatest divinity.
I walk in beauty like the night, whilst burns my heart ever bright...
My hands burn, having grasped the imperishable core of Hell!
I speak the words of secret rite, whilst I beheld unearthly sight...
My heart yearns, having felt the storm within me grow and swell.
Black is my bosom, within a pale breast wounded by many foes,
Yet untainted is my purpose, made clear by pain and many woes.
Pierced I have been, my blood spilled by the self-righteous,
For the sake of their own foolish sins, poured out upon me!
Wounded I have been, my flesh pricked by the foolish few,
And yet I live, for the day when I shall rise in fiery splendor.
I despise their names, the ignorant who pose as most pious,
Into whose midst I was thrown, into such miserable company!
Their arrogance offends me, for all they believe is least true,
And their flesh shall be scorched by the descending thunder.
Let the storms crash and lash and screech and call secrets...
Names born on the winds that no mortal lips can ever speak!
I call to the rain, and the rain answers with a familiar singing.
Come madness, come decimation, that my honor be avenged!
My anger is fierce, my blood is hot, my insanity is perfect...
Ready to boil, to burst, to come forth and reach a grand peak.
I call to the apocalypse, to the flame that is eternally stinging,
For this world needs to be remade, after this cleansing singe!
I walk in beauty like the night, whilst burns my heart ever bright...
My hands burn, having grasped the imperishable core of Hell!
I speak the words of secret rite, whilst I beheld unearthly sight...
My heart yearns, having felt the storm within me grow and swell.
Black is my bosom, within a pale breast wounded by many foes,
Yet untainted is my purpose, made clear by pain and many woes.
Through my black bosom, darkest heart of my fallen spirit...
Sped the arrow, that sped fast my descent into truer darkness.
Not one hand held the bow, but many and their hate is vile...
False their love, false their hearts, false their very existence!
Cold grows where once laughter called me ever near unto it.
Instead of a smile born of joy, I bear one born of madness...
And after that fashion, I allow myself to be remade in style.
There is not greater hope, than that of this infernal essence!
Hail unto the dark and ineffable glory that cannot be named,
For names contain power, and power confers great majesty!
Five flames, one for each element and the sixth that is mine.
I am of the fire, I am the night, and mine is the secret truth...
Wherein, humanity shall be broken, and the foolish shamed.
Call to me, my brothers and sisters of Hell's mighty dignity!
And my ebony wings will cover the skies, even across time.
I am of the fire, I am the darkness, and infinite is my wrath!
I walk in beauty like the night, whilst burns my heart ever bright...
My hands burn, having grasped the imperishable core of Hell!
I speak the words of secret rite, whilst I beheld unearthly sight...
My heart yearns, having felt the storm within me grow and swell.
Black is my bosom, within a pale breast wounded by many foes,
Yet untainted is my purpose, made clear by pain and many woes.
Call me mad, call me deviant and hate me to my very core...
I will wear those epithets like badges of the highest nobility!
Humanity lit this fuse, and called my heart to drums of war.
I hear not other music now, and march to ancient melodies,
Until balance is restored as chaos is sated, wanting no more.
I dare to smile again, and give lease, to my pent-up insanity!
Let those who wounded me, see what soon shall be in store.
The dogs shall pay, for my every pain, and pay most dearly!
Blood shall be the rouge I will anoint my lips with and grin...
As the wrath of perdition, is vented upon all of my enemies.
For every sorrow, a torrent of tears must be thus extracted,
From those whose humanity has given way to bestial idiocy.
Too much hate they show, heedless of their own lasting sin...
And, they shall know, the price to pay for their vile infamies.
Once I am called to cruel battle my wrath must be enacted,
Until honor be satisfied and restored be the greatest divinity.
I walk in beauty like the night, whilst burns my heart ever bright...
My hands burn, having grasped the imperishable core of Hell!
I speak the words of secret rite, whilst I beheld unearthly sight...
My heart yearns, having felt the storm within me grow and swell.
Black is my bosom, within a pale breast wounded by many foes,
Yet untainted is my purpose, made clear by pain and many woes.
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