Shroud me with silken joyless
watered in lasciviousness
to obey groan of gloomy cypress
enamoured in this darkness
and thy sensual caress
shall resurect (un) life in me
thus swathed in lustrous majesty
by ablaze nocturnal sea
cling thy lips on my carotid
on ardent pleasures of misdeed
sanguinary tears flow down the waned skin
lement for grace yet unseen
infuse me from the libidious fountain
where thy children soothe their curse
because now i see this world full of pain
our throe no spell can avoid and reverse
Sublime moon ascends
impure as my soul full of fervency
her lips are bewitching me
lucid and pure to appease despondency
and then heaven sends sadfull contagious rain
in mirrors so empty death proclaims
on my hands of time bloodred stain
forsaken with zenith i fall in my bane
Packs are gathered
they feel what shall be
for last time mitigate my cupidity
and overlay mantle upon me
fullfilled with cold dark kisses
immortal carnal lechery
Sylphic voices evoke me
within waiven heart
our vales and woods
Abide alone in the night
and life shall lose it's meaning
for those who understand
in which dark poisoned eden
i rule as king of the damned
i want to see my last dawn
with thirsty vampiric eyes
and ares shall sing 'pon my grave
with voice of thousand lullabies
adhere thy adhesive lips on mine
to feel the warmness of the skies
and to vanish as black silhouette
enfolded in sunrise
Candles slowly lose their shine
in numb eyes of (un) dead
and moon shall soon descend
before sun treacherous red
but my death shall not break
odium against their god
who threw me in this percipice
and now takes everything i own
but i know that my children shall stay proud
this evil conclave i will astound
as in their dreams prayer always the same
from nethermost sea i shall be roused
...again...
Scent of winter i have always been
which seduces thee to me
in attire sewed of snow
with lace decorated from the foamed sea
can you hear notes of piano
and moan of those who shall dance
with song wolves on our frozen shore
Statues shaping like silent tragedy
entangled in veil of moonlight
the same as this gothic poetry
embraced by thee and blizzard
Bigots kill the forest
burning what belongs to me
and i fell that i must wend
for prophecy is written to be.
Light of christ is approaching
to erase amorphous seed
but i shall in pain restless lay
while weak and mortal enemy breathe
(..."horizons are burning"...)
Thy lure and beauty shall coalesce
our hands under arising sun
which ones was touching scarlet ebony
but now's enfolding me.