..
To make them grieve in their lord,
Their redeemer in flames
Fanned by the scorn of the children
Who now curse his name.
Sire of sin,
You embody me
Undivine...
To you we congregate;
None so vile,
Your magnificent
Crown of horns
Inspires deeds maleficent.
Destroy the parasite
Destroy Jesus Christ.
They'll crawl in their perdition,
The righteous will be lost
Where gutted angels lie fucked...
Beneath the feunral cross;
We'll dig them a mass grave soon,
And bring to their knees
Those who would have rescinded
The laws of disease.
"The children have turned",
The cherubs wail,
As anticross triumphs
Where the cross has failed.
Hell-spawned majesty, we eagerly
Await the advent of the
Next millennium
When you will return with a swarm from
Beyond to claim your carnal
Lost dominion.


White Worms


It's almost night
The clouds are streaked with violet
And the moon is bright
Banish your innocence
There is no breeze
Disquiet lurks in silence
By this place of power
Your sins must escalate
What has come before
And recurs perpetually
Is on it's way
Cherish each atrocity
Woodland dark surroundings
Ill lit by twin beacons
A black car approaches
With two men inside it
With the right temptation
Murder needs to prompting
The man riding shotgun
Has just killed his own son
To nurture the white worms
Still and isolated
The woodframe house stands vacant
Humans that once lived here
Can no longer be found
And yet all are present
Well fed and ghastly white
In the mound of moist earth
That sits just by the road
His rigid features inexpressive
He flings his son's blonde head upon the heap
This last act earns him his metamorphosis
For he who built the house is at the wheel
To nurture the white worms
Darkling souls, though larval
With each sin can mutate
Into something dreadful
Before dawn, you'll pupate
And feed on innocents
Nourished by more like you
To someday haunt the aether
In obscene evolution
The house is hell
With it's windows all agape
Through these come some worms
And they have sprouted wings
Fear is forever, the objective
To goad the rest of humanity
Into acts of pervert nature
And bring out the worm in all of us


We Bleed


We bleed
Like the rest of you pigs
We breed
Fuck like the rest of you parasites
We plead
For an end
The need
For selfishness
We bleed
Ourselves instead
Tortured
Wondering whether
The process of thinking
Duplicates itself
Mirrored by maniacal malicious intentions
Carried out with ease
We bleed
A man with nothing to lose
Has struck swifter than a snake
Displays cold survival
And a man with all to gain
He has done the same
But has never crossed the threshold
Leap across the line
Teeter back and forth
On the brink
Decide which path
You take every hour


Open Face Surgery


I've learned to control my thoughts
ever since I recognized the first eavesdropper:
those who listen in on my thoughts,
my logic, my sanity
I cannot let them know I don't know
the verses, or converse in my head:
lash out at future foes,
banter with friends I've not yet met
The psychoaggressive minions of
your lord mock with laugher I can't hear,
with hidden scowls they admonish me
Nothing's sacred, Nothing's safe:
your filthy god is omnipresent,
this undying nonentity that haunts
my every waking dream
They watch me, his mortal flock,
they know me now by sight alone:
my thoughts are too well concealed...
Yet I sense more scrutiny
Fleeting lucidity's too loud for me,
let me be my silent self:
our existences irreconciled
Make them stop! I'm rotting fast...
The answer, painful though it may be,
is change
Alter my outer shell...
The listener's may not, then, know it's me
Open Face Surgery: short of pain
and long on masquerade
Ounce by ounce, lose a little weight
nip here, tuck there... So who needs eyelids?


Cold Hate, Warm Blood


Late last night at rest with my mate
I'm visited by a victim of hate
A spectoral group, yet they're one and the same
They would never live
Nor would they have a name
A baby too young to walk or to talk
Rocked to sleep with a big, heavy rock
Becomes a tot with a baleful glare
Sucked from life by a shortage of air
A child beyond time without gender
Metamorphing to surrender
Each shape for one older and still
No end to how each could be killed
By chance in the polyverse i'm all of these
Each to fall prey with unnerving ease
To who knows which ambiguous marasmus
It asked at once knowing
And unknowing the answers
To things far removed from my experience
Or need to know and thus it thanked me
For sparing it death's multiplicitous masques
And life's thankless laborious tasks
January, child born alas
February, still still frail as glass
March through a formative period you must
April child, in god, distrusts
May comes and goes and shortlived is the hope
June is the halfway mark of your rope
July child fears end of time
August child in slow decline
September, sense starts to fail
October's child, the burden ails
November's child malingers on
December's child is dead and gone


Phobophile


In the kitchen
With a screaming triple amputee...
Its completion depends solely
On my needs...
Said amputee's stumps
Are my way of saying... "Thank you
Just for being you."
Its fear tastes better than its limbs.
Terror of morality
I draw from the slowly dying damned
Monsters live behind my eyes;
I let them out and people die.
And all the grave worms
That come for their piece of meat?
I give them dead things..
The wretched living are mine alone
Fright mounts with the body count
To which anthropomancy predicts a decline
In all of God's creation,
Can there be a lifestyle that's better than this?
I mark my territory
With their blood and excritement
And adipocere...
I can find my way in the dark;
My fulfilment is habitually necromanic
And anal abusive..
Seen through the eyes of a mortician
They've "caught" me, as they call it;
My teeth and my semen have betrayed me..
Nevermore!
Tests to gauge my rationale,
The likes of which these feeble minds have
Never seen.
Rorschach blotters,
My responses to which inspire fear...
From my lizard side,
The amoral alien speaks;
"These aren't butterflies,
I see a face I'd like to burn."
Obfuscation
Of the authorities with lies,
And my natur
Alability to charm and be me,
Or whoever they want;
I've known all minds by divine right.


Shroud


We'll save your children
Follow this illuminated line
This light that's held before you
Enshrined beneath this glare
Straight eye sare
Roped in, ensnared
Lost will of yours
Slipped past you
A passing glance
Long ago
Deity like foreskin
Draped lazily over
Your dying perception
Hunted by a illusion
Doubled over in delusion
Cumshot religions
Unions of weakness
Dazed and proud
Buried under the shroud
The blessed beasts
Worshipped in droves
Disposable dogmas
Believing the bullshit
Infected
Bleed from your hands
Dismally down to your knees
With your strength relinquished by you
We prey upon your bowing form
Day dreaming, idols deceiving
Enigmatic fixation
Age of piety
Mind expansion
A mystic cloud
Dead under the shroud


Graves Of The Fathers


Sextons of the churchyard
Have seen unblessed things;
Ground no longer hallowed
Has sprouted new graves.
Descendants of clan
That unsurped maternity
hear whispers in their blood;
This summons of the Fathers.
Adherence to the principle
Of "man by woman born"...
Anachronistic ritual
Soon to be obsolete.
"Forgive me Father
For I know not what I do;
My grave beckons
As irresistable as drawing breath."
Nature abhors a vacuum,
The same is true to a tomb...
It cannot be empty.
A barren womb of plenty...
A vacant grave must be filled.
For this the Fathers' will,
Material birth be abjure,
A mother's cunt is unpure.
Sired in blasphemy,
In nocturnal obeisance to rotted hearts
Filled with necrolatry
Reverse the life cycle be reborn through Death.
"Forgive me Father
For I know not what I do;
I leave a void to fill one,
Hear my prayers from far below."


Drum Solo


Defenestration


Oh what a gal!
She seems such a perfect victim:
This I can tell, for if beauty by guilt,
she's guilty
Ordinarily,
I'd not wish to frighten her or hurt her,
But such beauty inspires one
to give the gift of murder
She's the kind of girl you want to
run up and tackle through a window some floors up
and spatter you both to hell
Come and get it;
your stuffed bunny's at the window,
But not that far out...
Reach little one! Reach!...


Slit Your Guts


Pardon, please, the narrow
Confinement of your limbs;
Unfortunately, it's necessary
For your correction;
Shriek to your heart's
Content, if you wish;
I promise you pain and
Nightmares, in that sequence.
Permit me to introduce you to
"Tuesday"...
I favor her, this pretty blade
So tall and fine;
Hatred and violence are not
Our ways, but firm we are;
Squirming is useless, so is this
Colon, cry for me.
Svelte is implement,
Its gentle caress lets you Bleed;
its subtle curvature
Dancing, deeply slit your guts.
It's for your own good;
You need guidance, I provide;
What is your pleasure? This is
Mine; A welcome change!