Dead In The Woods

Dead in the woods, he's there, but he still isn't visible
Even with his flesh now rotting, he'll always be invisible
And if anybody cared, then they probably didn't wonder
Did they turn a blind eye, as his mind was torn asunder?
Invisible in life and now he's quietly invisible in death
Not even the raven observed his exhaled last breath
The leafs of the tree do not even whisper his name
He was nothing to nobody, now there's no one to blame
Eerily creaking, a rope on a branch, of a tree, in the wood
When the raven starts creeping, then so does the blood
Oscillating in ever decreasing circles, that no one can see
Odd Mr Nobody is hanging there lifeless; there in the tree
Dead in the woods, he's there, but he still isn't visible
So who gives a damn about him now, the silent invisible?

Fathers Of Gods

Fables and tales, hyperbolic epistles, religious scriptures

Our forefathers gratuitously ordained despotic strictures...

In the beginning? Time flows in a circle without beginning or end

And it's only matter that's aeonian, despite what they've penned

For it's all about destruction and re-creation and their peculiarity

Forever reshaping the darkness of the void without a singularity

When we became 'conscious' there was ignorance without knowledge

So our forefathers sired gods and then coerced us into a faux homage

And behold! There were structures and plans and they could foretell

From Apollo to Zeus, although Mars was long dead and Venus is hell

They couldn't comprehend, so we were told to believe

In a supernatural order, of which they had to perceive

Inner sanctums of the past is where they sat down to think

And concluded that our existence must be more than a blink

We were blinded by faith and every crusade was a calamity

For we were never the children of gods, or any singularity

So there's no hope in our prayers, for worlds are destroyed

As we are left with our unrealities and our gods unemployed

In the end? Time circulates matter with new courses to wend

And from this maelstrom of mayhem we will never transcend

But all of our gods are as one and are dwelling with Aether

Their stories are old and the Almighty itself is not a believer...

By chance we are alive, with the others and what are the odds

Of us being here and still reciting the words of fathers of gods?

Witchcraft

Wicked witches and wizened, salacious succubi, cast
Insidious black spells, for their dark arts Candlemass
They gather in their coven, by the flames of his fire
Corrupt like a raven, for the devil's touch they aspire
Harlots of horror, of their lord Satan they're dreamin'
Cumming, all over them, with his searing hot semen
Raucous, is their laughter, as they worship the goat
All smeared, in his juices, as they cackle and gloat
Fucking the disgusting, for they are under his spell
The witchcraft disciples, who were all sired in Hell

The Dead See

There's a diocese where gods and science can never reach
Hope to ever know where to find, transgress or breach
Every post-life cult has already claimed this place is hallow
Death though is even beyond the paradigm of the witchcraft tarot
Even silence there will be a concept of a thought that cannot be
And nothing will be black or white, in the shades of the Dead see
Do not despair, for this place is very close; 'tis just there, yonder
Sometimes you will feel it's juxtaposed, if you choose to ponder
Every tick of the clock, as is known, is merely mortality's bait
Eternity's not for us forever, 'tis only a notion of an infinity fate

Dear Satan

Dear Satan,

Having already sent a letter to God (no reply yet) I thought that I'd also write to you, to see how the land lies between us at the moment. Perhaps sort one or two things out with you, a bit of straight talking between my demons and the devil, if you like... only kidding! Of course I realised a long time ago that what you say 'goes' and what you do... well, it's there for all to see.

Anyway, I've decided to write you a short poem, in homage to you. I hope you enjoy it!

My liege, you're pure darkness, you're the ice in my heart
You're the hate and the fear and you turn light into dark
And your hate is a beautiful rage, it's a nuclear explosion
You poison the seas and blight the land with soil erosion

My lord, you kill hope with despair and turn an eye blind
You turn water into acid and have all my demons aligned
You're a stab in the back, but always cloistered by guile
And you feed the preachers of hate with venomous bile

Dear Satan, you're the rope and the knot; the noose round my neck
And when we play cards you always pull Death from the deck
You're cunning and deceitful as you play all your devilish tricks
But you are there for me on speed dial, number six, sixty six

I know you get a lot of fan mail, but I hope you find time to read my verse of appreciation... hopefully you'll not burn it in the fires of Hell at least! Hey, don't forget that I'm the one fanning those flames and creating the thermals for that fucking vulture that's keeping a beady eye on me! I'm just saying, that's all, you know that you can rely on me.... I'm going nowhere, am I? For god sake (apologies for the blasphemy there). Just needed to get that off my chest, sorry.

Your loyal subject

Xaphan

Dear God

Dear God,

Hi there, how are you? ........hello, anyone there? Just kidding!

We haven't corresponded before and I've never met you, or even heard from you, but there has been plenty of stuff written about you. It's all old material now though and scribed by ghost writers back in the day, I guess they're just 'ghosts' now though!

You'll have to excuse my flippant joviality (some might say "sarcastic" - hey, whatever!).
Anyway, as you may or may not know, I fell from Heaven into Hell a long time ago and I'm just hoping that you don't bear me any ill feelings. I don't remember anything about it myself, but my liege Satan has even suggested that you threw me out! I can't remember a "Heaven" though, as for "Hell", well......
I just want you to know, that living in hell wasn't my choice, I just found myself here. It's not a lonely place though, there're so many others here and some are doing the devil's work - I'm just fanning the flames:

Cast into Hades, 'tis now where I dwell
Abandoned here in this flaming pit of Hell
Now and thereafter an inmate of perdition
Under eternal scrutiny without remission...

Hope has burned away and my soul's long lost
Evil reigns unabated and it's with a deadly cost
Left with demons and doubt and a funereal pyre
Perhaps purgatory's the fate of the utterly dire?

Dear God, Satan's my liege, but it's a heavy load
So I'm speaking to you in the secret tongues of code
Our father wherever, can you see a circling vulture?
Spying a beady eye on me, in this sea of sulphur...

Perhaps you can see, perhaps you can understand the meaning of the verse, perhaps you are omnipotent and mayhap you are the saviour. If you're just a manifestation of someone's fucked up imagination, then I'll probably not see you here, there, or anywhere in Hell. But you need to know that Satan is very much alive and well.

Hopefully this letter won't get lost in the empyrean post... or be 'returned to sender'. Anyway if you do get to read it, I hope you can appreciate the poem's sentiment, yeah? ........hello, anyone there? Ha ha, just kidding again!

Kindest regards

Xaphan