The Three-Faced Pilgrim

[When we close our eyes and withdraw from the world around us, we awaken to perceive another beyond it. If we explore this limitless realm with willed steps, we are granted the opportunity to come in contact with the denizens of the Otherworld, to experience initiation and to even converse with the Divine.] Across the arcane bridge of soul-flight I have arrived in your domain where the great fair three as one shine yet the fourth still veiled remains As through these glades I wander strangest roses tear my skin they deepen the spell I'm under with your venom of hallowed sin Though I remember not, again I now know the language of owls that are guiding me back home Free my starving soul and chain my heart to this ardent hour of ecstasy with the sword of your splendor pierce my eyes make your radiance the last thing I'll see The Gate of Eden is swung open I am a witness to your reign my life I offer you as a token for one drop from wisdom's vein To you I pray, make me versed in your ways pale pilgrim with the bloodied crescent horns grant me strenght and on my head now place the wreath of silver thorns It is not your wrath that may crush me it is your love that must... Pain and relief, sorrows and joys they all shriek at me in your worldless voice Rend apart my heart and nail my soul to Night's searing cross of severity with the speark of your judgement pierce my side make painful bliss the last thing I'll feel

Submitted by Sexy Gargoyle — Apr 26, 2025

[What else is worship at its coree but love and passionate adoration? What is devotion if not desire and striving for union?] Nearer and nearer draw the hours that re-join the Moon and her kin ignited by this longed shift of power the conflagration of hearts begins With the sap from the wound of Night's saint the back of my head I anoint in your name Your grace captured in the waters of the soul the mortal vase stands holy and pure As naked as are the cloundless skies again I've entered your age-old shrine I proclaim with adamant belief no thing profane can dim this love I feel Serpentine shapes of swirling smoke move in rhythm with the tide they slither upwards to the stars' abode as my gift to the Pearl on high I proclaim with adamant belief no thing profane can dim this love I feel In circles we dance like wraiths shifting between bright and grey masks until the last gate we penetrate and deep into your darkness pass

Submitted by Cyberwaste — Apr 26, 2025

[Even though we are born masters, we are raised to be slaves. To break free from this mode is not only an option for us, it is our sole duty as the godly seeds sown by times past.] From the womb of the suns, come forth from the blood of the past, now rise the runes carved in our bones through you shall come alive My mouth pours out your word and your scars mark my flesh may my hands do your Work and my feet take your steps In your grasp you hold the key to transcend what I currently am in your image create me anew blur the line between god and man When we are born masters why should we submit like dogs! Courage take over my heart strenght inhabit my being persistence my thoughts are yours to lead oh, bringers of salvation eclipse the human in me May my hands do your Work and my feet take your steps Be my aegis without bounds and the arrow in my bow an extension of my will the moonlight on my road Hear my call my thoughts are yours to lead Oh, bringers of salvation eclipse the human in me

Submitted by BloodShrine — Apr 26, 2025

[While incarnate, man is equally an entity of intellect and flesh, and neither aspect should be overlooked in the context of establishing and maintaining a connection to our gods. To worship merely in the temple of the mind is to wield the sword with just one hand.] A cold presence descends on us like some mist of blackest water drenched in this darkness we are cleansed from all profane The circle is forming there's no way nor will to retreat with faith as our fortress we've discarded doubt and shame Be with me now, o' children of Samael our mouths are one as we drink from the fullmoon's well No path is stonier than this No path as tortouous as His With the ichor of highest magick the Master moistened our lips He taught us the craft of Speech and thus we'll make our voices heard The Kingdom is ours to rule and the heavens are in our grasp let our words of power reach all the quarters of the earth Move, dance, give away to this trance may hand join in hoof and hoof in hand sing, praise, as lust smears your face no act is unlawful in His pyre's blaze Sin, transgress, put each border to a test grant divine impulse full reign over flesh boil and seethe from head down to heels with fervour feed the God that lives in deeds Stand with me now, o' servants of Samael our mounts are one as we eat of the sun that fell No path is deadlier than this No path as glorious as His

Submitted by Immortal — Apr 26, 2025

[To say that fate is what you make of is not entirely true. There are certain paths you are drawn to and bound to tread even if you might fool yourself to think otherwise. We can drink now or be led to the water later on but at some point drink we must.] Faceless faces behind masks of stone boneless bones clad in burning robes by hidden hands the wheels are turned through words unsaid their purpose learnt The paradox I live and breathe I roam its fields in thought and dream The silence within... it hums your symphony in the voice of thunder your angels sing to me Providence works in ways unknown more obscure couldn't be its lantern's glow yet by diverse means the web is spun and all the paths I take in the end are one Whichever is my role on Earth with your scarlet thread my heart is girt The silence within... it hums your symphony in the voice of thunder your angels sing to me And it all echoes throughout eternities

Submitted by Cyberwaste — Apr 26, 2025

[We don't need to experience the reaper's touch first-hand in order to appreaciate its liberating qualities. In time we all must go through the Grand Gate which he reveals to us. It is up to our hearts to decide whether the bone-key to that gate will be turned with a steady hand or that which shakes in fear.] With fingers of grey-white bone thrice you knock on my chamber door once for the mind, once for the soul once for the flesh twitching on the floor Cut the cords of time with sickle and scythe Under the wings of oblivion lies my haven in their shadow alone can I find rest from the book of being I have torn out the pages spilled I have the ink of eternal existence Many named you Mystery daring not to part your veil but I've stared you straight in the eye and I've learnt your real names Liberator, Redeemer, the Mask of Sooth your call is the knell that frees us from the Spell Untrue A universe is crushed... Naught remains the burden of the aeons past now I relinquish vanishing human memories, so fast forgotten like a handful of dirt thrown into the north wind The white fortress of thoughts the earth has claimed her own and the red mansion of life the abyss swallowed whole but the ice-cold void of eternity's limitless vault will treasure the triumphant spark that furthers their fall Three thorns as black as coal you drove through my very core one for the mind, one for the soul one for the flesh lying on the floor Cut the cords of time with sickle and scythe On a narrow path my feet have trodden only the ghosts of frozen trees watching the steps the high hills of time I have traversed fighting my way through a world of shells to lie down with the wolves

Submitted by Pestilence — Apr 26, 2025