Come distortured artists
Bitter things seek meaning
Even if they're madness to behold

Once forbears to horizons
Where the dead stayed dreaming
Now nightmares waken souls

That fear the living's toll

Gova, Bosch and Brueghel

Three times moonwise stain thy graves
For words alone are at loss to trace
The face of today's inhuman wraith


One half adrift in the vast abyss
Of despair and misery

The other a mask of rich red lips
Whetted by the fevers of belief and greed


All damned in this inferno
Where even Virgil averts His eyes
From the black mass mutual gang rape

Of Caesing hands an forced divides

Trespass these seven gates

To a world bloodlet to shades
Where Seraphim
(Falling on deaf ears) bleat

Of their cold and coming Master's race
In the seweres of Babylon
Stillborn to a trough anon

Chimiracles will hatch like plots
To dredge faeces to pearl their cross


Enter Penteholocaust!
Five Aeons past, yet still Man grasps
At final straws to save his cast


His Lord is a leper we shall not want
He betrayed us with white lies

His acrid pall as of the tomb
Reminds us how we rot inside


Gutted like fool's paradise
Glutted on cruel appetites...


Holding court to chaos
Folding to far graver arms
A downfall fatal to all resounds

As orgies peak in self centred psalms

And Nature screams Her sufferings

Under bowed and cankered wings
A bleak scorched Earth necrotica burning
Like the robes we've torn from Her


She begs Us lay Her pain to rest
Lest We are left with nothingness

Save for Her stripped and ravished flesh

And if Her fate is not portent of Apocalypse

Then the comets that graxe nightskies
Will surely cleanse of wrongs and reichs
When you and I and all else dies...


It's rotting down
This carcass Maggotropolis


Interdependent as worms to the grave
Allah's true name is naught

Chist acannot save
Locked in a waltz of evermore frantic steps
Spells of regret...

Death Magick for Adepts

Be prepared to fulfill prophecies

The glorious fall of a sin dynasty

Gutted like fool's paradise
Glutted on cruel appeitites...


"We've woven hearts a thorn arbour
Left tear streaked reason upon the shore
And bereft of compass, star or more
Set out for this World's end
Few at the prow, most slave below

Painting coal a perfect gold
But for all it's worth, the engines slow
Dead in the brine again
Come cabin fever, sodomy on the bounty
Prey to phallus seas

That hiss and foam to douse disease
A storm roars on the way
Blacker than the Ace of Rapes
Dealt out by Death in darkwood glades
Our Ship of Fools, all boards handmade

Sinks, dashed by seismic waves..."