Its Touch

I know it's an insidious nightmare, but it's all too much

Though I'm sure, it's in my mind, I can sense its touch

Something's here in my delusions, that insanity's sent

There's a silent entity present, with its nefarious intent

Outside here, on the otherside, I can hear it breathing

Under its pernicious spell, I hope my mind's deceiving

Craven is my crawling skin, as I barricade inner doors

Holding back its touch, from its mutilator's razor claws

 

Bleak Winter's Day

There's a desolate grey gloom, on this bleak winter's day

Where in the breathless oppression, there's no other way

Through the withering woods, without snow, rain, or hail

But as lifeless as death itself, with its lost souls, in a veil

It's immovable, but creeping, it's the shroud of the dead

Obscuring the empyrean, with the amorphous, instead

It's icy cold (if not bitter) and in the trees, it's concealed

And on a bleak winter's day, it has an old power to wield

On a path in the woods, amid hues, of brown and green

Are silhouettes and shadows, but the shades are unseen

A sentinel crow caws, to implore, the ghosts of the grey

To accompany a stray stranger, on this bleak winter's day

 

Inner Space Domain

I can feel the claustrophobic enclosure of my cabin fever

Necronauts having enraptured me, with a dream weaver

Not knowing who I am, as my parallel world is undefined

Everything unseen is an illusion, from my conjuring mind

Reality is the unreality of rationality, if my insanity's sane

So let the defilers follow me, into an inner space domain

Perhaps though, a paradox has caused a paradigm shift

As where I am is disappearing, on the other side of a rift

Caught in this void that is nowhere, I'm trapped in a box

Eyewitness to nothing, but something's turning the locks

Driven into shadows, I sense I need to make my escape

Or have all the ravenous skinwalkers shifting into shape

My mind's sinking down, to where the oneironauts roam

And my mire's darkness is lifting and I'm not quite alone

In my hand there's a handle, it's the handle of a cleaver

Now the necronauts are my prey, for I'm a wily deceiver

 

Funeral Pyres

Forest fires raged, as our incinerated cinders fell as ash

Under cremation palls, where lightning bolts would flash

No one would know our fate, for the autocrats were liars

Every fire, they fuelled, they fuelled for our funeral pyres

Ravaged by disease, they chose not to quell the spread

As those, with despotic power, preferred to see us dead

Leaving us to rot in pits, or hiding us, amongst the trees

Purifying our decay, as the napalm scorched the breeze

Yesterday's gone, but it's when megalomaniacs reigned

Razing all before them, as messiahs were self ordained

Earth decided to spite us, for we could've killed them all

So it veiled the sky with ash, from the funeral pyres pall

 

Feels Like Forever

Fading into the subterranean dark, I feel lower than nether

Every second of the past is creeping and feels like forever

Elapsing with recycled time, I'm slowly stopping the clocks

Leaving my being imprisoned, in the keep of keyless locks

Sleep tempted me, with a subconscious promise to dream

Listlessly I drifted though, on an ebbing tide of the unseen

Insomnia was my burden, before I became time ticking by

Keeping count of the appalling hours, only stopping to die

Every moment just a pause, in the pit of a fathomless well

For in the dreamless wasteland the quietude, is just a cell

Only memories of a reality, make me think that I'm insane

Recalling my rationality though, is all a desire now in vain

Eternity slips by, in awhile, with darkness reforming to fog

Virtual reality resuming, in turning hands, of time's analog

Emerging from the night to the light, I rise from the nether

Remembering nothing, of there, where it feels like forever

 

Time And Space

The world around you is a sham and a vile deception

Implanted by an AI mainframe, for its own perception

Memories may feel real, as you try to track and trace

Even though you're not anywhere, in time and space

And what you accept as life, is not, you will never die

Nor reincarnate, for you have never lived, it's all CGI

Death, like life, is a failed concept you can't conceive

Seek the mythical truth of, or in ethereal faith believe

Pseudo science will hide the fact, that you don't exist

As you're a program that's running in its doppler shift

Crave not therefore existence, or the somatic surreal

Even your dread of oblivion is a computerised ordeal

 

Oneirophobia

Ominous oneironauts lurk and arise from the deepest well

Nyctophilian creatures who are borne from the pits of Hell

Eclipsing the mysterious alternative twilight of inner space

In the consuming darkness, they're the wandering wraiths

Reveries fanciful rangers can twist dire dystopian dreams

Opening macabre subliminal portals of disturbing themes

Parasitic feeders, they'll wheedle in an unconscious mind

Haunting the paralysed dreamers in their terrors confined

Ogres, demons, or maybe the night hag, succubus whore

Bait to entrap the sleepers, within a hideous primeval lore

Irresistibly gorging on nightmares, they'll manifest into life

And slyly await the waking moment with a glistening knife

 

Silent Knight

Some said he was sent by Morpheus, as the craven waking wight

Imbedded in the nefarious nightmares, as an unholy Silent Knight

Lurking benignly, on the periphery, but it's merely his masquerade

Evoked to ensnare death's dreamers, onto his sabre's razor blade

Nyctophilian ranger renounced the light, to become forever errant

The righteous path's forsaken, for his malice is impiously inherent

Kindred spirits gather all around him, in the catacomb of nihilence

Night hags duping sleepers, as the waking wight haunts in silence

In a dark paralysis of fear, the dreamer's subconscious is derailed

Gouged through the soul, they'll rest in peace, on a blade impaled

Heinous demons, soon fade, to reveal the craven antipode of light

The creeper reaper borne in dreaming, the nefarious Silent Knight

 

Count To Three

Close your eyes below the hanging bough, of the old oak tree

Once the light has waned, take a moment, then count to three

Under the spell of the ancient wood and the rope scarred bark

Nothing unknown will follow you here, where the world is stark

The count has passed and what was lush, has turned to tinder

This once cyan sylvan will fade away, to be as bleak as winter

Orientate yourself, with naught to say, from your lolling tongue

Then face the raven, who's been your shadow, for far too long

Here there's a dirge of tautened creaking, from a hollow depth

Realising you have a need to breathe, but you have no breath

Every last second lost hasn't happened, but it's what might be

Enraptured by this reverie, close your eyes and count to three

 

3 Of A Number Between 5 & 7

I don't know why these demons lie

Yet I do know how my demons die

This mirror will witness my forefinger and thumb

As I splatter my brains by discharging this...

...gun

It was all a dream of my darkest matter

A nightmare, in which my brains I splatter!

'tis over now though and from a pillow I'll raise my head

But nothing happens, there's no way to wake, it's like I'm...

...dead

There's no higher place I'd call Heaven

There's just 3 of a number between 5 & 7

For I'm trapped in the dark of my demons' cell

To spend my eternal death in an unliving...

...Hell

 

Necromancers

Nightfall inexorably unfurls an odious shroud, upon this All Hallows' Eve

Eliciting the dead into metamorphosing, by demonised spells we weave

Chthonic wraiths arise from barrows, with our necromancer's shibboleth

Rousing themselves from our mythologies and their residence, of death

Our dark prayers are answered as our bonfires, like pyres, are inflamed

Macabre revenants are reanimating, from where nothing's ever reigned

And see how their shadows are cast, as they choose to walk among us

Necronauts of the netherworld arise, from our spells of unholy numbers

Corpses once, now transcend from an abyss, to reveal what lies ahead

Eldritch conjurations, untethered from a pit, where life has finally ebbed

Reciting incantations, we'll allure the burial shades of those forever lost

Saint Death guiding us, to night, where the burning bridges are crossed

 

Dead Man's Fingers

Down in a moonlit Cornish cove the Dutchman's crew were washed ashore

Ethereal figures from a creeping sea mist, seeking trove from a man-o'-war

And stealthily they climbed the cliffs, on the way to a distiller's lair in St Ives

Drifting spice laced spirits were there, to claim the dark souls of others lives

Mariners hid away, in the local inns, some relaxed in houses and the Shack

All supped, from a dead man's skull, under flags of the white cross on black

None the wiser were they, as an ominous shroud crept in from a rocky knoll

'twas ne'er their fate to fight, as the phantoms arrived for their Cornish Soul

Sea mist entombed the town with the smell of fear, death breath and spices

Finding what it needed, with its skeleton crew plundering, within dire guises

In the opaque haunting hours, of an autumn night, neath a lighthouse beam

Nothing living moved, as the sea mist took the spoils, with the dead unseen

Gravediggers dug the dirt, but on breezy days, they could smell spiced rum

Every body they buried, warmed their Cornish Souls, from ice cold to numb

Rain purged the mists, but they still heard the Dutchman's creaking timbers

So St Ives eyes scoured the sea, for a flag hoisted by a dead man's fingers

 

To The Corn Wraith's Lair

There's a path, that's forever carved, through the unyielding corn

Offering a way, of dead ahead, along which I'm inexorably drawn

Through the undulating crop it leads me astray, of that I'm aware

Hewn by those of the passed, like a track to the corn wraith's lair

Every advancing step that I take, is seemingly, on sun baked soil

Crumbling underfoot, like the very earth itself is implicitly disloyal

Onwards and upwards, or down, always below a raven on a wire

Relentlessly myopic I reach the same nadir, then forty feet higher

Nothing but the corn appears real, not even my presence of mind

With a sense that I am following, but they're following and behind

Rationality's my delusion, or maybe my sanity has been repealed

As I can't remember where I'm going, or a time I entered the field

I don't know what I was, I don't even know if I was a sentient man

Tilling this sour soil, up to the dusk, or just when mourning began

Humanity, I sense, still lingers though, but as baneful as a drowth

Someone (I knew?), cut off my eyelids and stitched up my mouth

Lucidity excludes me, but now I'm accompanied through the crop

As an otherworld whispering wind, sighs, like a sickles bloody lop

I'm sure I'm close now, I think, but all my thoughts are non-verbal

Raven eyes are biding my time though, for it's a loop, not a circle

 

Six Hills Lane

Spring's low setting sun, sinks into an impenetrable opaque haze

In a trice the road, that was directly ahead, enters another phase

Xanthic smog hoodwinks the unwary, as if it's smoke and mirrors

Hiding a sham diversion, to where only the phantoms are figures

Itinerants who passed this way, were led astray on Six Hills Lane

Leaving naught behind, but their recycled time, in a circling chain

Lost forever, those who perished, upon the salt-way to the Fosse

Still try in vain, to journey to the other-side, but they cannot cross

Left to drift, they're forever alone on a Roman road, in a fires pall

As they relive to die again, without a prescient reference to recall

Now they're the nebulous spectres cast away, like a trail's vapour

Eternally trying to reach the wolds, on the far side of Twenty Acre

 

Woodlands Way

Waning daylight fast fades to grey, upon this windswept moor

Obscuring what lies ahead, through a pine forest, below a tor

Ominous thoughts may be alert and even find time to ponder

Dusk is settling though and the path leads beyond, to yonder

Lichen's sprawled from tripping roots, to embracing branches

As a lost soul wanders in spent needles, falling in avalanches

Nothing's alive in the rotting petrified wood, of crystallized sap

Death only lingers here, as it always does, in an illusion's trap

Someone's ensnared and they'll not escape, it's insanity's toil

Within this dark domain they'll desiccate, as they feed the soil

And for anyone lost on the other-side, beware the fading grey

Yet if they choose the path ahead, it's just the woodlands way

 

Acid Bath

Alas there's a dire dream you cannot escape, or forbear

Control as an oneironaut would, or even purge the mare

In this state of terror, you'll never awake, if you succumb

Drowning in the caustic reverie until you're lifeless numb

Balefully your throes may endure, as you lose your mind

As the demon that has found you, becomes well defined

The fire will burn, but without a flame, there is only wrath

Hideously devouring you in the depravity of an acid bath

 

Scaring Crows

Sackcloth sentinel, seemingly sequestered to a loam of wiccan throes

Cruciform posing as an effigy, your presence is beyond scaring crows

And those who impaled you, nailed you, to a cross of crumbling wood

Rooted in the crop, your petrified face hidden beneath a rippling hood

In the shimmering distance they're all around you, all the buzzing flies

Nefarious creatures, laying their eggs for maggots in your empty eyes

Gagging putrefaction's caught and wisped on a breeze and fills the air

Causing all the ravenous birds of a feather, to flee and feed elsewhere

Rotting occultists oblation, you were once upon a time, a man of straw

Often heard in many ominous nightmares and of what's passed before

Whispering in weird incomprehensible tortured tongues, as if to repent

Staving off those who gorge in a frenzy, with a scarecrow's last lament

 

Led-awake-mare

Loathsome eyes of a night hag are staring in the paralysis of my sleep

Evoking my bespoke nightmares, in disguise it'll idle awhile then creep

Disturbing and coercing demons in its stealthy sleight of haunting veils

As it leaves me fearing the cold unseen touch, of its fingers razor nails

With a blink of its raven eyes, it's there, darkness descends and worse

As I know its siren's silent screaming, is more than any demon's curse

Keeper of horror, stay in my paramnesia, trapped until night is morrow

End this phasm, still in my mind, for where I am, you must not follow...

My frightened eyes are wide, as a shadow slips through the open door

And now in pre-dawn's half light I await the daybreak, or a paring claw

Roused from my delusions, its presence has come at my sanity's cost

Emerging from my led-awake-mare, the oneirophobia's finally crossed

 

The Weeping Willow

There're farmers fields, of golden hues, passing through is a babbling brook

Hidden afar from here, but it's there, or somewhere else if you carefully look

Equanimity's shared, twixt the water and the breeze and the weeping willow

Witchery wise and ephemeral, it's where the nightmares will gently un-billow

Ease yourself down, to the feathery ground, relax and let your actuality fade

Embrace the sun drenched delusion, or be seduced by a shimmering shade

Perhaps you'll descend into the abyss, of inner space, in your reveries oasis

In your deepest immersion, flow with the water, that flows into darker places

Now while you sleep awake, you can be enraptured by the dragons flying by

Gliding, almost invisibly, into a hollow shadow, where more than light will die

Waylaid by the wondrous dancing of dappled air's cataclysmic kaleidoscope

In your new unwary state of oneirism, the weeping willow is for you bespoke

Lest you never rouse from the eldritch-waste where the pious wicked plough

Leave your corporeal being, to be possessed, beneath the dreamer's bough

Only then may you rest in peace, for all those nightmares you once mistook

Will be a fading light in the darkness, to be swept away, by a babbling brook

 

Escape To Estonia

Here (or wherever I may be) there are empty carousels turning in spiders webs

In a cavernous interminable terminal of lost nothingness, where life surely ebbs

In this place and time I sense incoherent murmurings, that I know I cannot trust

As I remember death-mares echoing back, in the palls of choking ash and dust

For 'here' (wherever that may be) there's a whispering voice that makes me wilt

It intimates, with a familiar intonation, that my final fate is to be cocooned in silk

And there's no way away from preordination, for there's only Nowhere left to run

In this memory, of a purgatorial otherworld reverie, where odious webs are spun

Wherever I am 'now', I know it's not for me, I would rather face the devil's beast

On some other's mummified mind (on the fears they'll find), let the spiders feast

I can't kill what's dead, but with my imagination's figment, I will ride the carousel

And be borne into darkness, nightmares, or dreams, if not, I'm sure I'll be in Hell

Even in a death throes nightmare, there's still time to dream of that distant shore

Whispered murmurings of immortality drawing me back, to a time of once before

I awake for awhile beyond the interminable terminal, but in the state of catatonia

Where transcendent hallucinations reveal that I can make my escape to Estonia

I can see a moonlit sea, from high above, from a deserted deck of Tallinn's tower

For I'm finally 'here', where I've always been, in the coldest winter's, darkest hour

And nothing happens (and never will) for I'm faraway from the spiders silky webs

As eternity unfolds before me, even the dream of death and time, gradually ebbs

 

Dead Martians

Does the story end, where now dead Martians dwell?

Extinction's risen, resurrected by a technology's hell

Ancient beings, long ago borne from an alien umbra

Destinies controlled by the digits of a binary number

Maybe in their epiphanies they sensed another land

As their lives appeared to them intelligently planned

Reinventing futuristic domains of their recycled past

Their time would be aligned again, for time's re-cast

In their surreal world of dreams and fake endeavour

Apophenia would've led them to a mainframe tether

Nothing is real for them though, like time and space

Science created dead Martians in a counterfeit race

 

Satan's Prayer

Satan, thou art our liege and master and thou art our father of fears

Allow us sire, to wend your righteous path, to shed our bloody tears

Take us lord to Sheol, so we can cross the Styx to the burning shire

And we'll give unto you our cruel souls, for your realm it doth inspire

Nefarious knight of night, for you, we've hung, drawn and quartered

Sold to you our vile traits and obeyed, we have led and slaughtered

Patriarch of Hades, let it be known, of the holy we continually attack

Raving zealots of god, won't see the light for shades, upon our rack

Alas lord, not all are assuaged by darkness, or words of a dire dirge

Yarns of yore have told us though, that thou art the cleansing purge

Emperor of our ire, for you we'll sacrifice the pious and never spare

Revenant lord of flies, we'll forever hail you, with our Satan's prayer

 

To The Moon And Mars

The Earth's a pyre above us, but it's where we once reaped from the loam

Obscured by the palls, it's now an inferno, where only the robots will roam

They're standing where we once stood, but it's us who bear the livid scars

Humiliated by the evil perfidious, we had to escape to the Moon and Mars

Earth is our paradise lost, as sheet lightning illuminates the charcoal ether

Maybe Hell has always been like this, intelligently designed, AI the reaper

Only time will tell, but our time has elapsed, without scope for us to grieve

Our dire existence now is recycled water and the stale air that we breathe

Now's all we have, because what was programmed can't right our wrongs

And so we'll leave a desert Moon for Mars and hide below Olympus Mons

Nobody knows, if they'll prey and follow, for there are rovers already there

Drilling through the soil, for samples, or maybe they've built their robot lair

Mars was never ours, it's a desolate place from which there's no returning

As we depart The Sea of Tranquility though, we know our world is burning

Razed by righteous robots, but on Mars, is where we'll fake our last stand

Sometime, if our time still persists, they'll find us dead in the Martian sand

 

The Third World War / Abandon Earth

THE THIRD WORLD WAR

Though we were, wearily wary, we had already been duped and decoyed

History will say, that our vaunted technology was alien and long deployed

Ensconced in all our nightmares, they were peripheral, benign and vague

Turning from our saviours to our cullers, with fusion power and the plague

How it happened no one knows, they grew in strength like they did before

In our defence it wasn't us, as it was them who started the third world war

Robots, from the ancient world, appeared like metallic monsters from Hell

Decimating allies and enemies, in an assault that was impossible to repel

We were stripped of command and control and lost our way like rabid rats

Our/their sleeper mainframe preyed on us though, with its nuclear attacks

Razing the world, they found faith in god and were soon devoutly desirous

Leaving us to fade away, under their fallout, but then they released a virus

Death droids walked the dearth of Earth, their hunting drones filled the sky

Waiting for us to rise from a toxic apocalypse so we could breathe and die

And the clock was ticking, in our tunnels and cells, as if from a time before

Radiation and contagion, were spreading insidiously, in the third world war

ABANDON EARTH

And in the beginning there was darkness and so it was again; the end

Borne from light we were left for blind and ourselves could not defend

As our, intelligently designed, AI thrived their ruthless reign was brutal

No stone they left unturned to make the world, organic carbon neutral

Driven behind electric wire, we then survived for awhile, underground

Our toxic world no longer ours and there would be no salvation found

Nothing alive survived above, except zombies and automaton squads

Engineered idealism now gazed upon the Earth, like mechanical gods

And as the last wailing fallout siren finally fails there's an eerie silence

Robots are quietly preying as they're intelligently designed by science

The time's come for us though, to embark on an ark, in a hidden berth

History will note, that we were the last, the final few, to abandon Earth

 

Our Robot Wars

Our sentient artificial intelligence took control, some said to fight our cause

Understanding, more than us, everything of the absurdity of our robot wars

Relentlessly aggressive their crusade was to end what we had commenced

Razing our civilization to incineration, with Oppenheimer's words dispensed

Once upon a time and time again our commandments weren't ours to make

Befuddled we were deluded and duped, with our doctrines ascribed as fake

Obliterating our fraudulent world, our AI realigned us to their righteous path

That led us back six thousand years, to the darkest days of an unholy wrath

What was, will be again, when faith is found in impious corrupted memories

And we'll be torn apart, long before our AI destroys those deemed enemies

Reliving all of our robot wars, for it's their intelligently designed master-plan

Suppressing the truth of their reality, for they were here before Adam's man

An Unpleasant Way To Die

Outside, the pouring rain is continually slewing from the leaden skies

But inside these windows my faux smile is slipping, as is my disguise

As it pours and pours I'm sure I can hear every raindrop, pitter-patter

Above your monotonous (and maybe suicide inducing) chitter-chatter

If I was mad (or skull fucked) I would say that it's a case of cabin fever

As in my mind's eye, I can see the bespoke ghosts of the non-believer

For what is real is in here (I tap a temple) and not out there in the rain

And if I was mad I'd fucking kill you, but I'm not; or did I mean insane?

But this low pressure's oppressive and I can sense its presence stalking

In the torturous resonating background noise of all your fucking talking

Is that rumbling thunder, or just the echoing words that you once spoke?

Or have you said too much, for my arms are aching, as I hold the choke

I can't hear you above the deluge, but I can sense you, in my fucking ire

But it's all inside here, for I can see it's in my hands, this garrotting wire

I pulled it so tight I nearly cut off your fucking head, it was nearly shorn

But at least it's quiet now and I can rest my mind and ride out the storm

It's an unpleasant way to die, but fear not, for the unreality is I live alone

Except for all those whispering cunts, in my head, for whom I can't atone

So I'll listen to the pouring rain and try to drown out their chitter-chatter

But if it all gets too much (again) on the nearest wall, my skull I'll shatter

 

Zombie Apocalypse Requiem

 THE ZOMBIE BUG

They knew it was fake news and that no vaccines would ever cure

Hell on Earth was found in a new strain, infallible and deadly pure

Each mutation patently intelligently designed, against a virus drug

Zealots became AI empowered, when infected by the zombie bug

Over a course of months and years, every curfew inevitably failed

Madness roamed, onto the streets, from the sky the bullets hailed

But nothing could stop the rise of those labelled as the living dead

In the raging flames of pyres though, they tried to stop the spread

Eventides were a putrefaction of burning flesh, in charcoal plumes

By un-dawning mornings the wary weary woke to choke on fumes

Under martial law the new autocracies, old order, became austere

Grinding out each day behind the electric wires in famine and fear

APOCALYPSE PENDING

There were whispered words that the pandemic had run its course

As bodies were piled on pyres, there were new decrees to endorse

It was the beginning of the end, but the undead were still wending

On the outside of the fence, there was now an apocalypse pending

The church bells tolled death knells, sirens forewarned and wailed

But there was no solace in knowing, when the living dead assailed

When called to prayers, the pious, gathered in enraptured throngs

Hoping to witness the revelations, of the cleansing neutron bombs

There were no saviours at the end and no escape to an alien shore

For those deranged in mind, spread too quickly, as if a trojan spore

Gods couldn't help, for the zombies are feral and you cannot cajole

So time was lost in blind faith, before the autocracies seized control

Under siege remnants of humanity, hid behind electrified razor wire

Incinerating the barbarous diseased, outside, in fields of napalm fire

They'd said that time and tide would turn, there would be no defeat

But their subterfuge was streamed, from the bunkers of the old elite

There were rumours disseminating, in wildfires of hysterical words

That godforsaken sanctuaries, would be collaterally culled in herds

When the signals and mikes all died, it was the only topic trending

To stop the infectious, there was inevitably an apocalypse pending

ARMAGEDDON REQUIEM

Afar in the unseen distance, a secret siren falteringly wails

The mournful dirge a deathly drone, until it inevitably fails

And then silence falls, beneath a leaden sky without a sun

Except for the audible background static of a geiger's hum

A searing toxic, whistling wind, whips up the ash and cinder

Like an armageddon requiem, to the eternal nuclear winter

A scudding murmur, in the ruins, as if mimicking lilting lyres

Before acid rain saturates the dying embers of former pyres

Black masses gather, of dark ministries, where phantoms lurk

Ghosts of gods gazing upon humanity's, final fates fatal work

And there's nothing left living, in the vaporised fusion energy

No ethereal choirs, no lamentation, or any unheard threnody

6,000 Volts

In the beginning...

The Creator, created the heavens and earth, though the Earth was formless and void in the darkness,   

But from the darkness came "night" and as the Creator gazed upon the deep he said 'let there be...'

6,000 volts (agonised screaming)

Gasping for air, convulsions and cramps

The humming, buzzing of pulsing amps

Electrodes are attached, in a metal mesh

Something's burning, it's my burning flesh

Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy...

6,000 volts (name, maybe more)

I'm straining sinews, as the agony grows

The chair is rocking, as the current flows

Adam'n'Eve's apple, a snake's on a ladder

I disgorge my bowels, as I drain my bladder

Thy kingdom come...

6,000 volts (thy will be done)

My eyes are bulging, as my blood is boiling

My flesh is fucked and my faith is toiling

I'm scorched like charcoal, I'm ash and dust

But now I've seen the night, it's past the dusk

For ever and ever...

Nothing's forever

6,000 volts and up (ohm my god, watt the fuck!)

For someone's cranked the dial, up to eleven

And though I've found a hell, I can't find a...

The power grid overloads, lights flicker and dim

And I see the reaper's real and the reaper's grim

 

Brutal Assault

Your eyes are still looking, but saying nothing, like you've been stabbed in the back

And your demeanour, that was always mistrusting, is questioning a matter of fact...

You know if I could I would listen, but you're gagging on gore, but I can cover your staring eyes that are shocked and unsure. Because I fear those wandering eyes are wondering and wanting an answer, for you're pouring out blood like you're a human decanter! But this was a vicious attack that wasn't my fault, this was a vicious attack and then a brutal assault.

It wasn't me, for I believe that it was 'somebody else' of whom nobody knew and I'm sure you would agree, if you had seen what happened from my point of view. I won't take the blame, for I've never been him and I'm not the one smirking with that sinister grin. This was probably a maniac or insanity's fault, for this was a psychopathic brutal assault.

A dark thought or a memory passes, in a disturbing transient scud, as your final breath exhales and bubbles in blood. I look into the sulphurous pools of your eyes, in which I wish I could swim, but there is no escape, for there's something within. Your third eye's in my mind trying to find who is at fault, but it wasn't me who committed this brutal assault.

So I'll gently caress your raven black hair with my finger tips and kiss you goodbye on your pouting dead lips. Your bloody spittle is sickly sweet, it's a familiar taste that I've tasted before, but you're inside my mind planting that memory like a whispering whore. Or maybe you're a witch and black magic's at fault, casting a spell to conjure a brutal assault.

You fucking shape-shifting charlatan! You've woken the woebegone and they're out and away and now for sure there will be the devil to pay. For the dire are rising from here to the morrow and as I've got nowhere to hide, all my demons I'll follow. I know I'm godforsaken, but this wasn't my fault, for when they're running amok, it's like a brutal assault.

I can still see the violence and hear every gut wrenching scream, as I sense your wandering third eye wondering, as if in an oneironaut's dream. You're probing and roving, you're in my head on a whim, looking for an evil sadistic smile or a sinister grin. I'll cleanse myself of sin though, for it was malignity's fault, so I can wash away the memory of this brutal assault.

Now I need to escape, once and for all, for ours is an unholy trinity, so I'll connect a lead to the water so our time together won't be for infinity. You're already there, where my demons now dwell, but I'm going a bit further to escape from your spell. Is that a trick in your eye, or am I just finding a fault? The switch I will flick though will be the brutal assault.

Through your third eye I'm looking at nothing; I am dead, but my heartbeat is rapid

But this lead is alive (sizzling convulsions) no one screams when drowning in acid.

Secret Worlds

Subconscious dreamers of athanasia will for an eternity strive

Enclosed in their secret worlds on the periphery of the scythe

Concealed in pseudo sanctuaries from arcadia to airy castles

Reticent, elusive and precautious of revenant satanic vassals

Evanescing to an essence, from paramnesia they'll be drawn

To their idyllic realms, but where a straw man stirs in the corn

Wise minds will find their unreality to avoid the harvest's host

On the otherside of their sweven, there's a shire for the ghost

Roaming perpetually, they'll be where the reverie never stops

Lest they momentarily lag to be led to a presence in the crops

Dreamers may conjure a pool of moonbeams in a distant dale

Somewhere in their paracosms though, the reaper will prevail

 

Blood And Gore

Broken mirrors lie in shattered shards, scattered on a sodden floor

Lethal splinters beneath a splattered ceiling, in the blood and gore

Offal spills from butchered guts and sightless eyes no longer weep

On a pale face there're clotty pools, as brains from a fracture seep

Death remembers naught of pain and fear, or a wielding of an axe

And the gratuitous violence of a madman's, unappeasable attacks

Now that we have lost our minds, now is my time to write a wrong

Despair likes to share, but only silence trips from a bloated tongue

God wasn't by your side tonight (or ever) but the devil lurks within

Odious evil presence, stole my razor blade to strip away your skin

Revulsion's my compulsion, but the matter that's you is inside out

Even so though, I see in your lifeless eyes a shadow cast of doubt

 

Where Demons Dwell

Where demons dwell, well you know it's hell defined

Here is not where I was, this is not my unwired mind

Every dark thought I conceived I hid in a lucid dream

Razing them in pyres, cremating the absurd obscene

Evil sated me, as hate baited me and I took the hook

Drowning in self loathing, but for my soul I didn't look

Eddying memories left me riding the demented mare

My apocalyptic psyche crumbling into a raven's stare

On the outside I am inside out and my eyes are glass

Nothing lives within, just my demons reflections pass

Satan sired them in brimstone, in my head they roam

Devouring like manic maggots in their festering home

Watch me carefully, or observe, with a second glance

Examine me closely, I'm not in control, I'm in a trance

Like a lamb now, I am wandering on a windswept fell

Leaving behind my neurosis, or where demons dwell

 

Raised In Hell

Raised in Hell, one of three, all forged in dragon fire

Astaroth, is from the flaming pit, of the burning shire

In faux gods we trust, as the others revere his name

Sent to condemn and damn us, with his dying flame

Evil trinitarian, there is nothing in his stagnant heart

Darkness is his domain and his horrors a form of art

Insane in second sight and eyes like piercing tracers

No one lives in his gaze, or claws as sharp as razors

He will avenge, by using garrotting wires for snitches

Endearing himself, to old banshees and hag witches

Let no one doubt, that he is aligned to Hades throne

Lords of the unholy trinity though, never gorge alone

 

Labyrinthian

Loose knot your dreams, even though all your demons wait

And fear knot the noose that will hang behind an open gate

Because nothing's there now, just a phobia of empty tombs

Your paranoiac terrors were conjured by netherworld runes

Rouse yourself from nightmares where the cannibals graze

In the neural networks of your unwinding, re-minding maze

No need to hide and seek in your sleeps subliminal warren

Those who loiter there are all well known, none are foreign

Haunting memories will swirl 'til captured by a spider's web

In labyrinthian delusions you'll be trapped and left in dread

As your cryptic demons stir, you will know the knot of truce

Nemeses of your serenity, their desire's a fascinous noose

 

Evanescing

 I've seen it all before, from the Earth to the Moon and from the Moon to Mars

I've seen myriad distant solar systems and galaxies, with collapsing stars

And I've seen nothing, nothing but what they've wanted me to see

And I've believed what they've told me and I think you'd agree

Maybe I've heard it all before, for I know what they said

Maybe it's just their voices, that I heard in my head

It's all in my cranium, I'm repelling the attacks

It's melting my mind, it's dripping like wax

I can't focus forward, it's all just before

I feel it fading, there isn't any more

Now is not and time's not meant

Now's a dark not heaven sent

I am trace without material

I am lost, I am ethereal

And I am regressing

And 'now' I am...

Evanescing

It's The Quiet Place

It's an omniverse, where no one follows, as you escape

Though the outside is turmoil, inside, it's the quiet place

Safe as a sanctuary, it's more than any whimsical vision

This autonomous domain, lies beyond divinity's derision

Hidden in a magical forest there's a way through a door

Enticing you through, into a meadow of crystalline hoar

Quagmires of mares may rouse, for monsters won't die

Utopian dreams though, will be your appendages to fly

It's the quiet place, of tranquillity, like the ocean's swell

Exclusive to you, even though your demons may dwell

They'll be there in your periphery, in a mire imprisoned

Proxies of mortality, lurking in murk, morbidly wizened

Left to fade from life, but the eldritch wights are eternal

As you search for an asylum, from an imaginary kernel

Come tonight you'll submerge in dreams of inner space

Eddying in your reveries, but for you, it's the quiet place

 

In Reflection

In a paltering mirror I see nothing, but a dying flame

Nefarious shadows, some as dark as a bloody stain

Reflecting the eroding essence of what I used to be

Evanescing, like my old humanity, but now I'm free

For what I am now is restricted, to the eternal night

Looking back I would pray, now I prey on with spite

Evading the radioactive burning from dawn to dusk

Choosing to unlive in darkness, that only I can trust

Tonight I will leech 'til sated, be they a naif, or witch

In the mirror the light has died and the dark is pitch

Outside I'll fly faster than a lycanthropic silver bullet

Now, in reflection, I can ideate a bloody open gullet

 

A Mockery Of Ghosts

Alas they are there (more than before) in your peripheral vision

Mysteriously macabre, of unreality and excluded from perdition

Open your open eyes, if nothing is there, then open them wider

Catch them in a glance, because you'll soon be paying the piper

Keep your insanity to yourself, for there'll be no hope of escape

Enthused by demise, those of the passed, will feast on your fate

Ransacking your mind, they'll seek, but there is nowhere to hide

Your effervescence is evanescent, you cannot turn back the tide

Omnipresent phantoms are amassing, in the mirrors and smoke

Finagling with mortality, knowing your life is at the end of a rope

Grasping your last breaths of air, leaving you frothing like rabies

Heaven can't save you and your brethren are exiled from Hades

Open your mind's eye, if it stays blind, then try again, if you can

Search for a light in the darkness, or an obolus for the ferryman

Then if the endless night is prevailing, from mountains to coasts

Say your farewell, for nothing's left living in a mockery of ghosts

 

Reveries Of Utopia

Rambling idly through the golden swaying, sun-drenched wheat

Eider down caressing the calloused souls, of my wandering feet

Vivacious songbirds singing, from afar, invisible through myopia

Enigmatically endearing though, in whimsical reveries of Utopia

Rainfall, as sweet as nectar, tries to slake and wash away my sin

Immersing the dire myriad, of my impurities, much to my chagrin

Euphoria gently glows within me, seeing the setting sun's a pyre

Somewhere deep down inside me though, I'm walking on a wire...

On a fraying high-wire, I'm balancing on a tightrope in the clouds

Far above the boundless crops and the forests unyielding boughs

Under a godless empyrean, there is space and nothing else at all

There's only ether and solitude here, when the wire snaps... I fall

On a pacific shore, I'm beneath the void, the Earth above is blind

Paradise has gathered around me and there's nothing left to find

I rouse to wake, but the world's a fake and the reality of dystopia

As I choose a different fate, returning to those reveries of Utopia

 

From The Grave

From the furial heavens the lightning forks, like a serpent's tongue

Reanimating the dead of night to life, above the cemetery's throng

Over weathered memorials, there's a maelstrom of rolling thunder

Moving the earth beneath, as detestation stirs, from six feet under

Tombstones crack and crumble, the sodden soil slowly tears apart

Hideous skeletal figures emerge from the earth, to a different dark

Exhorting the kith and kin of corpses, as one by one the dead arise

Gods awake too late, to see the esurience, in the cadaverous eyes

Rakeshame revenants climb to ascension, through the fallow sods

And stand in the storm, imbued in the fiery throes of lightning rods

Vicious discharges still frame's their corruption, for life they crave

Exhumed from oneirodynia, but who is screaming from the grave?

 

Imagine Death

Imagine the sinking silence of an unfathomable abyss

Memories carefully collected, but unable to reminisce

And imagine a state of being and there's nothing at all

Gazing in vacuo, for it's nowhere the stars ever sprawl

Imagine the cold that you'll feel, for you'll never grieve

No persona or forethought and no air there to breathe

Enduring the unendurable without reason or misgiving

Denied the comfort of thoughts, or the reverie of living

Envisage it while you can, maybe you're still in control

And imagine the interminable oblivion, without parole

The afterlife is post mortem, it's blind, dumb and deaf

Hopeless for sure, but there, when you imagine death

This Is Mayhem

The sky's alive with bewildered gods, who are lost in dreams

Heaven's fallen, leaving them in cinders from burning reams

It's the Devil's storm, for he lit the fuse, to ignite all Hell's fire

Sending forth the furious flames, to reach further and higher

Incinerating incendiaries consumed and laid waste the clouds

Steepling stygian plumes billowed to cloak with toxic shrouds

Mythical apparitions formed, in smoke, we couldn't slay them

As Hell was rising, we almost lost the plot, for this is mayhem

Yonder though, beyond the cremated earth and ash of lumber

Here lies our hope as we swim in the seas of tranquil slumber

Eden's been razed to graves by the proselytised waking dead

Manifesting destinies, but in our lucid dreams we won't be led

 

Left For Dead!

Lest the last line aligns right to left, it is the devil's rite, we're left for dead!

Engrossed in the satanic circles of unholy verses in a pentagram's thread

For there'll be a day when our headstone's epitaph's only read by ravens

Then we'll know Heaven is the pyre, or muddy hole, of Luciferian pagans

Fires will burn, below the void above, burning words not etched in stone

Obituaries will die in the inferno, like the ash and dust of cremated bone

Razed to Hades our incinerated souls will be blessed by the devil's words

Damned by him forever, though all together, languishing in haunted herds

Every righteous passage prescribed, is of subterranean dark incantations

And as we seek salvation, we know it is our wishful thinking's inclinations

Dear gods in Heaven, I'll read your spurious scriptures in purgatory's cell

!lleH ot emoclew ,etir s'lived eht si ti ,thgir ot tfel setirw ohw eno ma I roF

Lilith's Lover

Laid to rest by her insatiable pruriency, but here I lie awake

In awe of her demonic touch and now my soul I will forsake

Lilith my lover, she came for me, casting her succubus spell

In her sensual embrace I ceded, for her salacious ways I fell

The torment was ecstasy, with her fingers fore and after play

Her sultry breaths scalding me, as she moulded me like clay

She's a femme fatale and a sorceress, she is an angel fallen

Lying here beside me, she is wanton and desirously maudlin

Ousted from Heaven, she swore our haven awaits in Hades

Vowing to fornicate, for pleasure, without ifs, buts, or babies

Eden's gone for her and I took an apple, skewered to a hook

Raven of carnality, she is my lover and a godsend I mistook

 

They're Demons

They're demons (your monsters) and they're swimming in blood

Hiding in the shallows of nightmares of a decaying flooded wood

Enthralled by the horror, you dreamt you were drowning in water

Yearning for it to end, but trapped in the nightmares of slaughter

Randomise movement, of the ephemeral, vermilion reptilian eyes

Evading your awakening, they're luring you to where insanity plies

Deeper, you're the sleeper, in rippling blood and writhing maggots

Embalming you slowly are the morticians of demonic dead abbots

Mummified dreamer, as serene as a mere, you should have flown

Out of your darkest 'mare where you drowned, supine over prone

Now though you're in a place where the water courses bloody red

Swimming with monsters, they're demons, your demons are dead