Visitant

We have stormed creation and entered the realm of this dimension. Where screams bring meaning to the night, Where dogma is found and written in fright. The piercing of our cries will be timeless. Accursed with eyes that number three, The touch of death is nothing before me. The lot of Earth will be shown much worse, The breath of life now Heaven in reverse. I am the voice of the darkness, a reflection from beyond. I am God in the face of your blindness, you mortal are such easy prey. Across the hideous cosmos, To harness the madness I found the end. Within a blistering gospel, To summon the beast words were penned In the mountains of sound and echoing screams. Accursed with eyes that number three, The touch of death is nothing before me. The lot of Earth will be shown much worse, The breath of life now Heaven in reverse. I am the voice of the darkness, a reflection from beyond. I am God in the face of your blindness, you mortal are such fucking easy prey. We have stormed creation and entered the realm of this dimension. Where screams bring meaning to the night, Where dogma is found and written in fright. The piercing of your cries will be timeless. "I am God in the face of your blindness, you mortals are foolish." I am the voice of the darkness, a reflection from beyond. I am God in the face of your blindness, you mortal are foolish, fallen, and you're easy prey.

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Apr 25, 2025

From the dismal shore a full, abandoned light. To lead us to refuge or to our burial Sight was foul and most unkind, The mist a vengeful phantom. To send us howling to the deadly fathoms. The mortal greed of their flock Our fate, a vessel To be impaled upon the rocks. And then we knew the siren must have sung The spoils drift away as water fills our lungs. But we have risen as specters of the sea To claim descendants of this treachery. But we have risen as specters of the sea To claim descendants of this treachery. The mortal greed of their flock Our fate, a vessel To be impaled upon the rocks. Solo: Ellis And on this night, the mist a vengeful phantom To send them howling to the deadly fathoms. The gutless reign with crosses hung Feeding our conquest on rusted flesh and Hell’s disguise. Solo: Ellis Solo: Malone But we have risen as specters of the sea To claim descendants of this treachery. But we have risen as specters of the sea To end the reign of liars!

Submitted by The Void — Apr 25, 2025

Once I walked with faith, I found her foul and spat her out. My absinthian guest, if only your charm were as deep as your flesh. One night I walked with beauty, I found her bitter and I insulted her. Oh witches, oh beasts I have entrusted my treasure to thee. Once I slept with grace, I found her ill and full of bane, vain, and far sicker Than the wrath of the Wicked King Wicker. The smoke from her fire turned everything black. So never think of me for the sake of sanity, Although I'm fond of your scars, The failing of fervor, the crossing of stars. Once I lad with beauty, and I laid her to rest. If only, if only her charm had been as deep as her flesh. The smoke from her fire turned everything black.

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Apr 25, 2025

The absolute end of the world, in life, transparent. A pulse keeping time with the dark, Cruelty will now inherit. Like the breath and the hex of the sorceress The crosses turn. Towards the grave and the shade to coalesce with art of ill-turn The one bound by cigarette burns. Preying eyes follow along Screaming for blood and bleeding for song. Preying eyes follow along Screaming for blood and bleeding for song. Bleeding for song. Bleeding for... The absolute end of the world In life, transparent. A pulse keeping time with the dark, Cruelty will now inherit. And hate will become silhouette against the idol shroud. Evil, too much to regret, will please the crowd. Preying eyes follow along Screaming for blood and bleeding for song. Preying eyes follow along Screaming for blood and bleeding for song. Bleeding for song. Bleeding their young.

Submitted by Celtic Frost — Apr 25, 2025

And blood becomes the light, so conducts the night. Cold Morta came howling, marking the curse with a five-pointed star. Raw grave of torment, screaming now at the moons' dolor. We're feeding on the dead. A vital lust, longing for blood. This wrath born to razors, clawing forth towards the brazen sky. This wrath born to razors, raging forth with funereal might. And blood becomes the night, so conducts the night. Even Forneus, Marquis of Hell cowers now to our phantasmic rule. You must fear the ghost of nightfall When dreams from the sky will stare. And feel the breath of our call. The moon conducting the nightmare. We're feeding on the dead. A risen thirst, longing for blood. This wrath born to razors, clawing forth towards the brazen sky. This wrath born to razors, On the grave of your christ, denied. This wrath born to razors, raging forth with funereal might. And blood becomes the night, so conducts the night.

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Apr 25, 2025

To watch and wait in whispers Within the scald of blisters. Once interned in the dust below The vengeful one has risen, cold. Entranced and frozen by these eyes. His glare alone could drive the nails and crucify. The snare of flesh confining souls from seed to the gasp. But with vow of the death the soul can escape and be in your grasp. The grave, this world. Entombment has begun. The grave, this world. The spell of lord illusion. Divine, our race was sicker within the hex of trickery. Interned in dust beneath this hell will call to our belief. Their faith will be buried alive. His glare, alone Will see their breath through a god's eye. The snare of flesh confining souls from seed to the gasp. But with vow of the death the soul can escape and be in your grasp. The grave, this world. Entombment has begun. The grave, this world. When facades fall, the wreath of barren skin. When 'Old Nick' calls you'll see what lies within. The folly of second chances and evil claim its own. The filth now romances, interned in dust below. When facades fall, the wreath of barren skin. When 'Old Nick' calls you'll see what lies within. The grave, this world. Entombment has begun. The grave, this world. The spell of lord illusion.

Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Apr 25, 2025

Dead as the widowing curse of the knife Dead as the bloodless stare. Dead as the ashen praying for life Dead as the fatal air. Screaming the rite in spite of the end, unhallowed. In spectral decay condemned, from below... below. Sometimes they breath, sometimes they roam Every man buries their own. Sometimes they speak in death divine Sometimes dead is better than alive. Dead as the pallid artists' disguise Dead as the mourners' prayer. Dead as the flesh awaiting demise Dead as the Charon fare. Screaming the rite in spite of the end, unhallowed. In spectral decay condemned, from below... below. Sometimes they breath, sometimes they roam Every man buries their own. Sometimes they speak in death divine Sometimes dead is better than alive. Enshroud and await the hour Beneath the ground has soured Shadowless souls devour as the spell benights the dead. Sometimes they roam Every man buries their own. Sometimes they speak in death divine Sometimes dead is better than alive.

Submitted by Cyberwaste — Apr 25, 2025

A sulfurous stench that captures the greed of life. Like flesh unto the bone, and both unto the knife. An ulcerous wench enraptured with the falling night. Embracing with the moon while racing from the heaven's bite. For horns, forewarned. The dream evolved. For horns, forewarned. A race absolved. A race absolved and now... The crawling web of sacred dead can rest, betrayed. To your lament will not be saved. The crawling web of sacred dead can rest, betrayed. To your lament will not be fucking saved... By the vow of rapture or the holy ghost. And the vessel of virtue becomes the fevered host for endless torture, to darkness betrothed. For horns, forewarned. The dream evolved. For horns, forewarned. A race absolved. A race absolved and now... The crawling web of sacred dead can rest, betrayed. To your lament will not be saved. The crawling web of sacred death can rest, betrayed. To your lament the sacrament will not be fucking saving... Divining heart, the rise of the dark... the dark. Feel the change in the sky, his stirring. Feel the cold and hellish blast. Feel the fatal lie enduring backwards through time to the past. When the righteous being dances unto the ways of rust and the crux of truth collapses into a ghost of dust. The wrath of the watcher, in sacred rest betrayed. The wrath of the watcher, the sacred won't be saved.

Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Apr 25, 2025

There was a man so cold, no life was in his eyes He had a look so hard, I'd never seen him smile I could've told you then, you'd heard it all before And now you're in suspense, you'll have to wait for more In all those mysteries you're taken by surprise You never thought to see that look was in his eyes There's a man with no life in his eyes I was the only one who chanced it from the start There was an evil sense, I swallowed to my heart And as I took the vow a thought had come to mind There was a winter mist, I dared not look behind In all those mysteries you're taken by surprise You never thought to see that look was in his eyes

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Nov 08, 2025