Deep Tracts of Hell

I can scarcely lay claim to flesh. Though it is dreamed for, wept for. And it shines like dark gems. ...It is the noise and the dancing, And their joyless hearts. And all the pleasures one might have. Derelict tracts of hell. Then all these slices came through to my hands. To erupt in welcoming darkness. And it shines like streams of pain. ...It is the hearse and the vulture And their swollen yarn. And all the breath to mourn them with. This is the tune of sparks, The tone of relentlessness. The spiral scar. This is the wounds that sneers, The trance of credence. You are my art.

Submitted by Celtic Frost — Apr 23, 2025

My heart sets afire the seas The burning waves crush mountains of dreams Eternal the fear of torture Released damnation forever Come to my shores and I shall crucify your soul Feel the violent steel - Feel that Satan's won And I am the wind - I'll blow through miles of burning souls And through heaven's gates Search through halls of white and chambers of gold Then I'll kill you again

Come swarm with me, come grind the carver. Come paw the skin, come slay the harvest. Come lick the sky, come reach the heavens. Each grain of flesh, each drop of pleasures. The dust cloud of our lust, Redeemed in hate. Deodorize our claws of rot. Wash them clean of taste. ...And we swarm towards the sun or the credence of it. ...And we whip the sky for blessings or for the joy of it.

Submitted by The Void — Apr 23, 2025

I've been chasing blood Turned my back on gold I have chosen black All for you 'Cause Father, this is my hell Created with hate for life The wars I have all won Com march with me tonight (with might (huh!)) Meet my love of life- A wound open wide I lick it clean with pride Take me Father, my blood is yours Unite your soul with mine Please don't let me down Let me serve by your side

Submitted by NecroLord — Apr 23, 2025

Flying lord, God of all times. Swept in rage as we left it. As its gold whips our minds. And fierce tongue scratches our eyes. Wake me from my sleep, And lead me gently (on my way) to hell. And it would rain in waves. Or in clouds of ashes. And wash off all taste. And creep into my spotless heart. My tears in a tin box. Bubbling, seething, covered with flies. Its grace leaves me tender. My eyes, wrapped in plastic. Swarming, curdling, wretched inside Its beauty makes me blind. The sky turns vaster. It rains in flesh. Its elegance wakes my slumber. And turns me into hate.

Submitted by Immortal — Apr 23, 2025

Gates of madness Gates of harm I long for your endlessness And to feel your blades Vast sceneries drenched in blood A thousand fires that reek of death Halls of torment - let us in! We'll show them pain Nightwarriors, I summon thee It's time for bloodshed Come on and rape the daylight I want whores and untrue sons of Satan Dead Eternal furnace fire- The only light I need No lambs of Christ could take me higher- It's in hell that I must bleed

Submitted by Nargaroth — Apr 23, 2025

One heartbeat rips The spiral scar. The spiral breeze. I grant my lips, The spiral greed. In all my praise, with all my trust. I swear my claim in a crest of rain, And a column of radiant desire. My gloss forlorned, my play of horns. And the music of sweet fire. The mourners they weep, Thought greets the feathered King. The veil of rot now sings: "For in the beautiful insane, lies the Equinox scarred. With souls of flies and spiral hearts. Yes, it is I. Glowing in your hand. With all grace of hell, marbled in sand." The serpent leaps to face The quest of flesh and bone. And to reap this spiral tone.

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Apr 23, 2025

I dream of you I am drawn to you I drink with you You showed me black I drank your blood Then I saw the beautiful, darkest path So feast on my flesh Let me feel your flame and ride the stars with you I am forever yours You showed me black I drank your blood Then I saw the beautiful, darkest path And as I walked the path grew wideer Infernal landscapes were revealed I cried your name, knelt Down and listened: Tormented everlasting screams. Guided by a savage serpent And a thousand vultures flew with me

Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Apr 23, 2025

Sourceless, rhythmless, heartless. I scan the desert. Since I, in my beasthood saw the dancers there. As my hands, two tiny figures, came visible, Like a carnivore of flesh. A union of monstrosities. Curveless, boundless, eyeless. I flee from the source of my agony. Since I, in my beasthood, took form In new, alien anatomies. My limbs towering, mounting in celebration. Murmuring the approval of new glories; New threats, new intimacy. With this, I am fit to charm the Devil. Sneering down my pale face. I am erect with his anger and lust. I am the grace of them all. Still sneering, drooling, floating. Breeding curves of hell. And shreds of pre-human gloss. This softens those songs to dust.

Submitted by NecroGod — Apr 23, 2025

I wear the belt of hate I wear the robe of sin I wear the armour of demons I wear the mark of Satan I am the warlord I am the knife I am the thunderstorms I am the vulture I drink from lakes of sorrow I drink from lakes of hell I drink from lakes of evil I drink from lakes of torment

Submitted by MetalElf — Apr 23, 2025

A parade of ghosts brought these Innocent feelings to where innocent itself was brought to. To view the rush of female tempests. My Sculptured face Turns and twists by the sound of my own (horrid) laughter. Awoken by the sight? Ha! False lies have taken place in me (Words of lust heard from vast buildings). That is the mirage you longed for. So, amuse me. Amuse me with the bitter glance in your eyes. As I forsake you with my forlorn beauty. And expose to you, the garden of gods in my hand. The glance turns to a gleam. A parade of thoughts encircle my Throne and whisper to me, words of beauty. And I caress these. And open wound in the palm of my hand The sky is no longer clear. That is the mirage we longed for.

Submitted by Finntroll — Apr 23, 2025

Merry, you may be. For I am the flesh in your tongue. Create to yourself, images of these Glass-eyed figures, And expose to me, your skin Whorish as ever. They speak to me, your pores, your veins, In a rush of melancholy. In a stream of misanthropy. Remove the carpet, so I may be United with the shades of these. Blind my eyes, Still I will see, presence, visuality. I grant you my pale hands, Still I will feel, shape, contours. Please leave. In me you won't find any pity, As the dog that howls for the light in my eyes The stench or your nakedness, no smell for a mourner like me. So, please leave. In here you won't find any pity. Tour kisses were as hell itself. Be silent, for I am the flesh in your tongue. Only I can wear vast costumes of time, and still be present. "So, hereby I rape thee."

Submitted by Pestilence — Apr 23, 2025