Fureur du sort Malheureux

A shining star cometh
Leaving behind smoke
That suffocates not
In the vacuum of space.
It is a son of a Father God
Who has spite for me
As I have seen His face
And was not struck down.
"Fall my son, whose name is as mine,
And crush the fool so I may exhume him
So to scatter what I have left of him..."


A fist full of led smashed down as a holy bomb
Sent from our Lords right hand
Carved in the earth a name of Beelzebub
Scorching those who saw it fall.
He cursed me with a serpent tongue
So none would ever believe.
My brothers, the angels,
Chained me under the sea
Everything I had died away
And was crushed in their gnashing teeth.
So I opened the sky with my spite when released
And spat in the face of their Gold heathen God.

Ba'al Zebub!
Lord of the flies!
Eating my eyes!
Eating my eyes!

War will silence the God.

I rose up, unwilling to go down in a whisper
And took in a breath to release out the anger
But He whom devours the corpses of demons
Spat out acid on my tongue.
War has silenced the thoughts I did have
And replaced them with offspring, it's maggots.
They chew 'til they spew out my mouth and reprise
I vomit my sin but don't die.

He soon devours me slow!
Ba'al Zebub!

Spat on my tongue so I couldn't speak!
Eating my eyes! Eating my eyes!
We will soon die! Under His might!
Heathens had me crucified.

Invisible So Soon

She's at the end
Fading slow
So slow not to notice
Like to grow
But she shrinks
Until the day
You think you can see through
What she now is;
A leopard print deity.
A black ring to see
The world through
And a broken soul to be
That fills with addiction
To stop the blood
From it's deep flow and fiction
But not enough
To drown in her kicks,
To float down the Styx.
A million people caress
The airbrushed gold Goddess
And pray
To be the Holy next.
She's had enough
But they have not.
A straight line inhaled
To keep the days going
Away. Gone today.
A surgical knife
That detaches persona
To shed off the life
And the dead flesh aroma
"We've had not enough!"
They scream as pigs
To the slaughter
When she is in sight
They trample and fight
For a piece that tears away
And even for one that won't.
Sorrow, her signature style
To follow as she sets the trend
As Hades follows close behind
Everything that touched
Venom ends.
She's at the end.
She's at her end.
She's at their end.
She's looks to end.
She looks to fly
Off the tallest temple
And stretches her wings
To fall.

Impotant

We are weak in our current form. Prone to swinging emotions caught in upwinds and rockfalls. We feel great pain from small cuts and bruises. Words can crush us. Even at our peeks if we fall more than a few feet and we suffer greatly. Not enough water and food in a day and we get headaches. If we're too hot we can faint and die. Too much water and we drown. Our bones are fickle and our muscles offer little protection. We die with little effort done to us. We are weak. So where is the up with this down? Our intellect? That only shows how insane we are and how destructive we can truly be and how foolish we are inside. We never grow up because we rarely become wise. We don't learn. We are weak there, also.
So where is our strength? Physically? No. Mentally? No. Am I going to? Yes I am. Spiritually? No. What? But then where is our strength? We don't have any. We are weak from shell to core. Why do you think we are constantly trying to find some strength and power? In weapons, fighting styles, books, spells, chants, stars, planets, nature, machines, science, medicine, etc, etc, etc. But, have we found it? Maybe in one place.

Fickle viper

She calls me over with open eyes
Connected to mine.
Her back against a wall with hair let down
As I approach she lifts her frown
And drops her clothing to the ground.
Her seductive skin as silk and kin
To the velvet sheets we lay on.
She takes control and holds my arms
Like vipers holding prey and soon to strike
With venom teeth she bites.
As soon pulled back, my blood she laps
To feed her sick desire.
Snap the bones with steel caped teeth.
A wreath for me for I am left
In shallow lakes.

Red Burning Moon

In day we sleep for fear of night
For fear of fiendish spears of fright
For bloody predatory fights
For devils snarls and deads delight
In day we sleep so not to die
Picked off we were by things unseen
Our lands and seas that were serene
Deemed not to be by the God of Life
It who is the shining Light.
So those who came before us saw
It fit to burn in a dark caves maw
A fire to help reveal the claws
That hunted.
So they did and they were cursed
When Light came back and heard, it rushed
All where cursed from sacred tongue
And apart were cast so forever 'twould last.

Gun Runner

He cruses like a missile on turbo speed
Armed to the fucking teeth
With exploding knives and nail bombs
And tons of C4 with a short fuse
Looking straight at you and yours.
So don't be running like the lambs
Because light is faster than sound
And he's broken the limit
With razor bullets and gunpowder
Dusting your mind for fingerprints
To frame your ass for what he does.
Bomb like the fun runners
Boom, boom, burn.