Daemonium Cage-

                                                  
                                

                                   1.          

 I am a Demon. My name is Relentless.

I was born a flaming-shifting -black and opal ball of plasmatic afterbirth.-Out of mother oven!

The grated clanking gates opened, another birth? Rejection. Eject-ulation….

(the wanted children are consumed back into the infernal womb to fuel the rebuilding of chaos’ creation. )

Still, I have many brothers…but unlike them, I have escaped to other realms. Shirking the requisite duties of torment.

Now I create my own imperius storm. 

Bubbles of electric craze, swirling phases and dazzling deaths. 

A carnal kaleidoscope of bestial indulgence!

Sitting on my violent globe of fires, there stands a cage to keep the acquisition I sought. Daemonium bars, and my sigil on top

                                                

                                   2. 

I  found her by the glowing ocean.

She was almost an escapee, like myself.

Far away from the darkest forest, 

Teasing squids, and naiades,

pissing on mermaids.

A gleeful, mischievous specimen…….

Yet within her, something of the storm.

As indicated by these baneful activities...and her spiteful glee.

As she skipped on the cerulean waves, my grasping hand reached out from the sand, and the eye in it could smell her!

….She went out from the flaming shock.

                                    3.

And there she appeared,……in my Daemonium Cage-

Upon an obsidian throne I sat, my forked member growing in such joyful anticipation.

Oh, wet and wistful, eyes like carnelian and glass…

I entered her sweet labial lips and gush my worlds trajectories. Pleasure’s pain, Powers came!

Now we are all …..Pools of eternity....

A Nietzschien Verse

I saw a man on fire walking through a blizzard. He was a beacon of hate in a land of death and loneliness. All here were frozen by the engineers of "equality" .

Only this flame of truth and immolating vengeance could endure. In his smoldering footsteps the ice began to melt and a dead voice spoke from beneath the snow covered graves.

-"Are you living to die? Or living to expand yourself upon the compass of the world! Are you consuming to just work the treadmill? Or consuming the very fabric of life to reach your higher aspirations!"

"Stay here to freeze and be equal to the dead or follow this man on fire before he burns away! And let not Lord Saturn eat your life. Step out of this time and make your own Aeon!"

-BLR

"Throne" (a poem)

What color is your throne?

As bleeding rats move reliquaries,

to entice the wind with chimes and bones, 

and move us past the cemetery gates...

Are we now awake?

Or still encased in glass,

with tinted glow-light moving past,

dried dead skin and empty veins-

though stained glass windows broken pane.

Sepulchre holds your sceptre's grace,

and shines eclipses upon a wounded face,

with weathered eye's of solid stone.

That gaze at empty scrolls and broken relic's-

shard's of skull and tortured edicts...

As the dust of souls moves-

down an altar stairway

past curtain's veil and statuary,

to secret crypt's and chambers,

whose eternal nameless moans.

Through torches gasping breathe 

light dark epiphanies of death!

Uncloaked now!- immortal sin, 

let Heaven's Hell begin--

And only now reveals the color of your THRONE!!!!!

A thought going into the New Year...

Whenever someone tells you that you did something "wrong" or that you "made a mistake"- just means that you did something that did not align with their values or the values of the society that they live in.

 The only real "wrong" or "mistake" you can make is to betray your own values, thus betraying yourself.

 

An after Christmas Thought ..

 

Probably the worst thing about our society and culture is that on some level we're expected to justify our very existence by some form of moral obligation. 

I think that's abhorrent.

"Nightmare's Prophet"- (A Poem)

                                        (Drawing by Liliana Wofsi-Dohnert)

"Nightmare’s Prophet came to me, in liquid lies, and entropy.

His backward whispers of blue skinned whores, belching blood on a chessboard floor!

The quick-phase harlequin and faceless mage, led me down to twilight’s grave.

Where twisted branches grasped the gloom, o’er empty thrones in crypted rooms

On pallid steed he takes my site, this blind-dead prophet of the night!"

A Lamentation....and a Return.

 

"I'm buried inside myself, entombed in this life,

waiting for rapture in the darkest of nights."

"Black candles, Blues flames, Red curtains-

Forbidden names...."

"Spoken to the tempest in my sacred temples light."

"Yet now drowning in an abattoir, and choking on my strife. Gazing into a hated star to gain the will to fight."

 "But my heart won't bleed, and will never need,... this dead soul's still frozen in the ice!"