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A State of DeathAnd to be alive I state the fact that we already have started to crack
To wish for the light at the end of the line is just another reason to die
And fall into the black and try to come up and know that you're never coming back
So again I state the fact that there is no going back to a state of meaningful life
Together we die while holding hands and as once we reach for the apex of vice
The ocean of woe is drowning our tears, so close your eyes there is nothing to fear
The Last Lights of the Northern StarLike the winds of before
Caressing your soul
Sealed memories forevermore
But as it was written in the sky
With lament and woe
Everything finally dies
An immortal begotten unlight
Trumpets of nature's vim
Dissipating in landscapes bleak
As the light recedes
And the morning dawns no more
In this moment of finality
Return to the wintry north
Peer skywards one last time
And dream of a life anew
Den Digra NejdenSom när två världar krockar med dess enorma kraft, samlas ångesten in i märgen.
Att ännu en gång gå stigen som vi fruktar, vandra blint med likgiltigheten som guide.
Kvalmet i ditt huvud, ändras till en förskräcklig kakofoni, som knivar i levande kött.
I ditt nakna och känslokalla skall, vacklar du dig oumbärligt mot livets ridå.
Handflatorna, som suicidal stigmata, kvistar och törnar formar ett spår av blod.
Luften försvinner och du faller ner på dina bara knän, ärrade av livets miserabla val.
Din fana som du en gång höll, brister och förstör dina redan sargade händer.
Livets färger, som en palett av grå, försvinner snabbare än blixten kan slå.
Livets flamma har förvandlats till fragment av kol, sorg och uppgivenhet.
Ditt eviga purgatorium av misär och helvete är det ända svarta ljuset du kan se.
VoicesFrom the ruins of your discontent
O serpent mother, let thy will be done
From the plains of your desolation
O serpent mother, let thy voice be heard
The long lost fields of perpetual silence, now, echoing with your booming voice
Echoing from the far beyond, reverberation, from thy domain of flaming excellence
From the pits of burning despair
O serpent mother, let me taste thy womb
From the bowls of the beast
O serpent mother, let me lick thy wounds
A path hidden from the burning lights of the sun, cosmic conflagration
Searing and lingering pain, rips your soulless form into pieces of a dying breed
O formless ophidian, thine voice, so venomously euphoric
Lay root inside of me, mainline thy poison
Show me, the many, the way
Zealously possessed, I tear my flesh asunder
My beating heart, I devour, I bleed for thee
Tumultuous, thunderous, you shriek so triumphantly
With my last beating, my last breath
I render my last limb for thee
Ethereal VoyageSplit your spine and watch the blood surround
Let me ascend to your spectral vessel of time
One last ode of awe and flesh meshed into one
Paint the sky with the patterns of existence
I count the stars with my hands
As the endless anchoring void appears
With ravenous hunger and stride
Our corporeal chimera
The beast within unleashed
A deafening, silencing roar
Split your heart in twine and watch worlds collide
We will merge with the flux of your veins
One last odyssey through the oceans of ruin
Paint your future as the stillness overwhelms
I count the beatings of your heart
As we together dive into nihility
With unquenchable thirst
This lifeless husk
The stillborn in convulsion
A riptide of infinite strife
Force feed me the dying stars
I'll set the sky ablaze
Navigate through starless skies
The swallowing darkness
Through Gateways to Infinite CollapsesI watch the morning star dawn again from the ever fading horizon
A black astral slate inside, coiling and slithering inside my mind
With your whole being you crumble in endless loop before me
The febrile fabric of this withering planet is but a breath of nothingness
As the pillar of creation is scrying the end of days and beyond
We dissolve into pure energy, the deepest and blackest of voids
Our eyes recognise everything and time is unraveling before us
As the old one spoke
With booming fidelity
Reverberating through the cosmos
The end is the start
A rearrangement of stars
Transcending dimensions of cosmos
How did it come to this?
We fall into the tunnel
Where daylight dies
In a forever sway
Caught in disorder
How did I become this?
An enveloping enigma
Will never bee answered
I am the abyss
Speak now through me, I am the vessel of thy tongue
See through me, my spirit-sight is endless
I will travel through your limbs and reach infinities apex
Swallowing reality and vomi
Saesongernas AnomaliBeskåda vårt himlaval
Hur det falla skall
Livets espri fjättrad
Hjärtats nejd splittrad
Skogar i sienna
och rännil av ockra
Den tunga umbran
Våran livssfär krossad
Den kvävande dimman
Våra drömmar dömda
Säsongerna flätas ihop
Kaos och förbannelse
Solen som helvetesskur
Flytande rost i din hals
Ögon bubblande av svavel
Jorden i disharmoni
I dess totala förakt
Hur skall vi behandla?
För att skonade bli
till landet vi ger
till djuren vi ger
Northbound and GodlessThese lands are my domain
Where I endlessly can soar
These lands are mine to bare
The burden of your kind
For once I do not weep
Over the lands so scarred
For once I do not keep
The secrets of my scars
Upheaval of existence
Spread my ashes
Across these wondrous lands
The forests deep
The mountains high
Here you shall not tread
Welcome, you are not
With elements fused
We deny your kind
Here you shall not build
Avatars of appraisals
These are our ground
For you not to defile
The northern lights
Our beloved homeland
Of icy graves
Of wintry bliss
This pale blue speck
Defiled by thee
We will cleanse
The world from thee
Stalwart we stand
With endless sight
With banner high
Northbound and Godless
Min puls, mitt hjärta
Bakom varje fjäll, gömd och fjättrad
Din närvaro en skymf, må du utrotas
Med era kors och facklor, ni bestämma
Men nu, i vårt land, ni skall brännas.
Min själ, mitt blod
Från min jokk, jag slukar isvattnet
Snön min krona, nordanvinden min mantel
Med era kors och böcker, ni predikar
Men nu, i vinterns grepp, ni förtvinar
Den eviga skogen sjunger mitt namn
Där norrsken och stjärnor vilar i min famn
Under varje sten, mossa och träd
Finner jag min skoningslösa värld
Naturen, hon dömer ej
Hon skördar de veka
Ni alla skall falla
I hennes obarmhärtiga tag
En sista gång med gråt i er hals
Visar jag er berg och dalar
Ni kunde ha stannat
Ni kunde ha bott
Men i er ödeläggelse
Såg ni bara rött
Så i denna s
My mind deals with
Overcomes my judgement
Today it's no different
I can't take it anymore
Observing my image but
Nothing is revealed
I Saw a Burning ManIn front of my house, he sat.
Skin burnt off, now charred and black.
Hesitantly, I walked outside.
And he followed me with his watery eyes.
With steps as nimble as the snow,
I hid my fear and continued to go.
Now before him, the Burning Man.
I kindly offered him my shaky hand.
No malice nor vice leaked off of him,
rather sadness and agony which simmered below his skin.
I could feel it around me, the pain and despair,
yet, physically the man was nearly repaired.
For his scorched skin was not his problem,
instead the bottled emotions that devoured all of him.
“Would you like to come inside sir, and stay?”
In which he replied by looking away.
Again I asked, and received no reply,
and was startled when the man began to cry.
Unsure of what to do, I walked away,
Yet I’ll never forget what happened that day.
Be it from pain, or mute, or undisclosed desires,
I watched as the man was engulfed in fire.
I stood back in awe, with my mouth agape,
and feared that he had fallen into
little victories.when i was younger,
i thought i was the strongest
little girl in the world
because i could easily
beat my older brother
at arm wrestling.
it wasn't until years later
that i realized
To the person who holds my best friend's heart...I know that is is kind of weird
But I felt that I should write this down.
I need to tell you what I feel
And tell you what he means to me.
He's my best friend and he's a good man.
Please, give him the love and respect he deserves.
He may seem goofy but he's very sweet.
I know this because he was always there for me when I was sad.
Now, I know that you're not bad
Cause he would never choose someone who's mean.
But I still want to tell you just in case you forget in the future;
Please don't break his heart.
He's been through so much
And he doesn't deserve something like that.
He is the kind of person who smiles even when he's hurt by others
And would take any pain for the people he loves.
I know, I've witnessed it.
I know he may seem kind of childish sometimes
But don't let it get to you.
It's just his way of expressing himself.
He's very caring and I'm sure he'll do anything to make you happy.
He doesn't look like it but he's very kind and thoughtful.
He'll put your needs before h
in which I gain sentiencesave room
for doubt, in the silence between
religious guilt and stolen
body heat. I am made of helium.
in my dreams they
pop me and
watch me flutter. I wonder if everyone
else’s head is so congested as mine,
hyperactive with inattentive people.
you are never serious--
he stares at me in a different
set of eyes; there are words
I cannot say, there are
things I cannot tell you.
(twice a week
I watch the people I love
leave me for good.
spiders in my throat,
And There Was Lighti.
He was seventeen when he died.
I never went to the funeral
but I walked past it the day of
the service. His mother
was in the backseat of a blue Dodge,
door open, head in her hands.
"My baby," she kept repeating.
"My baby." It would go from sobbing, to
screaming, to a soft whisper that
I could only hear being carried
on the wind.
It was a Wednesday afternoon that they found
his old red pickup truck parked
out front of Slim's, two beer bottles in
the back and the windows cracked to let the stale
I heard that his dad told the police he was
gonna take that old truck and fix it up, because
he had promised his son before—
because it's always in the before—
And in the after, his mother never had dry eyes
and I'm pretty sure my mom told me
that she saw his dad at the bar every night,
drinking his sorrows down because some people can't
handle the stress.
Some people can't figure out why their son would
"Some men just want to w
Can you look deeper?You see that girl you just bullied?
The one you harassed over her choice of art?
The art of a man beating a woman to death?
She saw her father kill her mother when she was five.
You know that man who likes to photograph himself in dresses?
The one you called a homo because of his choice of clothing?
Well, his parents wanted him to be a girl instead of a boy.
So they made him dress like that everyday to pretend he was a girl.
You know that woman who writes stories about child rape?
The one you bullied until she didn’t know how to cope with life anymore
Her uncle has been in jail for the past eleven years.
He raped her daily for seven years of her life.
What about that guy who favored abstract artwork?
Do you remember him he liked to use the colors red and black a lot.
He was nearly beaten to death when he was fourteen.
He only knows nightmares because he remembers seeing his blood on the wall.
What about me? Do you remember me? Even just a teensy little bit?
You bullied me because
The Apparition of the RiverMist.
Silken and ghastly.
Like a bed of mysticism.
Like opium dreams.
Heavy like darkness.
Ascension of souls.
An endless strife.
Float to the shore.
Like a strain
A resounding phage.
Ethereal yet solid.
In this finality.
Naught shall remain.
But a hollow fragment.
Fruitless and bleeding.
Of never ending horror.
Inside of you.
Blood in amok.
A frenzy of paranoia.
This is where you end.
By by presence.
Blue Eyes in FlamesWhen the prince sees the flower bloom from the palm of her hand, he orders her arrest.
She is only seven years old.
He takes the flower from her and keeps it, even though he knows he shouldn't. He puts it a vase, or, rather, his servant does that for him. The flower doesn't ever die, even years later.
It's dawn of a December morning, and he's cold. But still, he stands next to his father dutifully and looks at the little girl with blue eyes that are now black from seven nights sleeping on a cold, dungeon floor behind bars. They cut off her dark brown hair during that time. She's tied to the pyre, and there are seven guards around her, holding sharper swords than normal, not that she could get away. There's one man dressed in black holding an unlit torch, with a mask over his face to prevent his death. His father raises his arm, and the torch is lit.
She locks her gaze to his, and he blinks at her. It's like she expects him to prevent it. He couldn't, though, he can't. She scares him, w
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More