My Dying Bride Forum

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Poets Society

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Postby firebird » Thu Oct 06, 2016 12:42 pm

I found some writings in my computer´s depths and before they keep rotting silently into oblivion I could post the first one (if I already had posted them all many years ago I´m sorry but I do not know anymore).

I have walked the ocean. I stood on the egde of the ridge and have seen the darkest abyss. I went down into the deepest chasm where radiant flames lightened my path and the songs of the sirens reached my ears from high above. I have seen the great old who was dreaming of ancient times when all waters were his reign. I saw the twisted one who tried to lure me into her deadly embrace with thousand voiceless whispers. And I met the most dangerous of all, whose all interweaving mind I made a narrow escape and who is seeking me and ever will until he has found me, and nobody has ever escaped him and never will. His huge shadow hangs over me until the day I will have to face him.
Life is a mouth only death can feed
(J.H. Fabre)

owlonfire on
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Postby The Last Lonely Man » Sun Oct 23, 2016 6:07 pm

Lyrics I provided for UK Black Metal band Funeral Throne, for their (at the time, instrumental) track "Vessel". (as featured on their 2015 album "Threshold")


Into the sleeping mass I set forth
Pale rain over dwindling labours
A branded forehead
That binds in every form of death
With every glance the globe of genesis is mine
Strength beneath my life
The sign is here for the second coming

Of Shades and symbols
And guilts we renounce

Obey and ride with us through the mire
All works of the void united in blood
In the beginning was the glorious fire
The burning cipher
Accept this touch of darkness
And rejoice in the grip of evil

We will not
Bow to the lesser
We are not
Bound to your fate
We show not
Fear of your jagged tongues
The descended rise
And shall remain deathless

Shine through my wounds
Turn your back on the burning world
This vessel
Your light

Through the bowels of the dying whore
The red dawn is silent
And Passing through

"Blessed are the hands that mold my ashes
Into the bricks of the final temple
Blessed are the hands that hold me under
For they are those that pull me out again."

My divine negative, No joy can be compared to you, And no conquest can be equated with you, No euphoria can be compared with you, And no love can ever replace you..
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