Ontology of Nought

To bottomless perdition in the notional void to writhe reason sank and lay vanquished rolling in the moon-blood behold another unmoved mover concocted by conceited discourse thus, lo and behold - opprobrious brooks of sulphur weltering in faltering cadences indifferent, scaring wound labyrinthine veins gushing the claret of nation's notions though fathom thee none may in the currents of life in the chthonic veins of ire in the torrents of dulcet blasphemies I float and I wave with billowy motions advent of a dying era and the charnel houses that fester within my chest limitless oceans of mire a constant weaving life's skiff dances in the surf's ire with death still rife an incessant heaving washes away intent longing and tireless strife thus uncreation's whirring loom tirelessly I ply with crippled fingers solemn feasts profaned besmeared with blood of human sacrifice and a mother's tears my night-foundered skiff my gracious vessel and futile shelter capsize and gently sink to this festering wasteland of consciousness delving into the floods pleading for cathartic asphyxiation vision rears from off the pools its mighty stature ascending vapours suffused by the rays of light, flickering illumine which lies tenebrous on the seabed that is my tomb repugnant shade the corrupted ferryman yet another ummoved mover throws around his baleful eyes he it was whose guile stirred up with vengeance and command what in all is fathomless recollections flaring up the reverberating troops of echoes withering keepsake leaves that strew the brooks and dance to discordant symphonies transfixed to the bottom of these sulfurous pools and to the leprous redeemer professing to create redeem and inspire needful succor lend and crucify his flesh contented swine quite gorged and overfed with sacrosanct premonitions devour the pearls cast before them and drift off to sleep with cold upon the sacred altar froze perceptual fixation hence woeful mortals derive their woes and of all hopes of glee bereft forsake your aery purposes and live and strive illumine what is lowly deep within raise and support liability and love embracing transcendent homelessness and cease to be out of the fragrant soil and mire a fabric ruby ascends like a still exhalation with the lush sound of dulcet symphonies and voices sweet built like a temple vast forms multiplex dance and jubilate antiphonies abscond and cease to be shaking, I hearken the woods to fall each heartbeat transfixes my body to the fragrant soil a wistful vagrant I am and cease to be

Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Apr 26, 2025

The petals on the ground the ranting beggar's rags the gust in quivering branches and the sleeping plowboy's dreams are but selfless, empty and free from conceptual elaboration where the putrid roots of every heart on earth infix deep their restless twists in the barren ground where reason's gentle lamentations fall like morning dew his perception's charnel house was built all singed and weary the soothsayer rests from his day's journey and glances at the abhorrent vista down yonder to gaze upon life without desire and discerns from afar a bleat, a bark, a bellow and a roar ascending salutations from afar intermingling with his deliberations then dissolving in the interstices that dwell between each prudent stroke the mind's brush applies when his sleeps in rays of light, he beholds and waves that beat on heaven's shore and joyfully drowns in woe and contemplation with intoxicated moon-eyes he once gazed into himself conceiving the engulfing waters waves and breakers sweeping over him and rays of light run life's loom to weave the tapestry of nought and like a smile upon an infant's face perception delights and withers inhaled by the discerner's breath underneath the pine tree he basks and swoons in recollections musings a thunderous god once wrung from him and weeps gently making death a victory wailing softly and wondering what is his toil's recompense? and the lotus flowers blossom in the offal of the discerner's sardonic mind for shame is his innermost universe's loom and the softening of the sinews is its thread perception is a putrid lake kissed and sucked by the thirst of the sun vapour it will become and height and path of light and light itself the senses perceive and roam the glades, the vales and woods profound and vision adown the precipice plunges to dissolve in the emptiness and the auguring beggar's chanting ceases croaking, rattling, squalling until his voice is echoless fill your mouth with noble words and ravel in your thoughts' carnage the one who bestows his own greatness seeks to smite the throne erected in his heart wayfarer, from your own fervid day-longings joy and woe are woven fine and cruelty knits a snare with silken twine so broad and teeming lies on the horizon an ocean of multidiscerning clarity brute, insidious, plundering and grovelling is the origination that must come to pass and recall that reason's gilded butterfly scarce perches on your cheek and the mote descends into the offal and comes to nought as the soothsayer basks in multidiscerning clarity without plurality, indivisible, one in taste not derivative and self-aware for that which is boundless in you abides in the mansion of the mind whose gate is the morning mist and whose windows are the songs and the silences of night multidiscerning clarity you may find in it a harness and a chain multidiscerning clarity raiment and thread of the inner path

Submitted by Cyberwaste — Apr 26, 2025

Your blood and my blood are nought but the sap nurturing oceans of life my innermost universe's waves gleam red as if inflamed verily, my senses swim and swoon nature gazes at the opalescent visions which rise athwart the delusive flowers of the mind my mind - a yawning vortex and futile words reverberate in the emptiness and allay all pain the winds wafting and ere all this there was nought but will in the hidden gardens the stems of yews swing in the fragrant memories of yore the miserable warping memories of efflorescences lost and waned floating up to the skies the waxing moon caressing with a hand discreet and light the contour of her bosom solidity, fluidity, heat and motion all of these are but fleeting in the palm of my hand I hold a silver tear of prancing recollections like a shard of opal sundering the bonds that caused all now freed of delusive hindrance give way to dizziness and grant your eyes this benign vision let them rove over visions of white mighty waves of your inner ocean unroll and tear the pall of life's insalubrious demons too much have I hearkened unto the brooks and woods do obeisance to emptiness and place it in your heart distant from the scathing eye of the heavens and wakeful reflections of the mind verily, you shall forever cherish the vast sea the image where you contemplate your souls putrid blossoms lolling on his bower man amazedly gazes into himself plucking the ears of corn and looking at his day's toil in vexation over the loitering and tardy will we leap the blossoms crawl from within the vortex perceiving the portentous effluvium of vernal fields of scent within our souls inundating me and over-reigning control of flawed perception sensating a colourless all-colour of emptiness from which we shrink and when the pinions of emptiness enfold you, yield to it! lest the dagger hidden among void's wings may wound you the empty and fatuous depth of a lover is a riptide you cannot deter suffer not yet my eyes to hunger for your countenance as — forsooth - your aspect and your gaze console me do not desert me as the palsied universe lies before me a leper magniloquent ascriptions of dominion resound in the yawning nothingness of form and sink to the opposite side of the world out of pure subservience the blossoms of your tomorrow shall unfold in my heart perceiving the all-colour through which lurks an clusive iridescence and imparting an abhorrent mildness to the dumb gloating of their gaze and in those for ever exiled waters the heartless voids are shadowed forth beckoning the thought of annihilation and because it does not have an essence it will cease and be no more

Submitted by BloodShrine — Apr 26, 2025

May you become a herdsman for one day-dawn and toss sweet symphonies into the void from your beguiling shepherd's pipes you conjure up the all-pervading whisper and save the shepherd of all and nought may you bewitch the all-vanquisher's wits by the sovereign remedy of your guileful melody pervading all and nought and the fabrics in between the all-destroyer will grant you ample recompense for your service two gifts: I will make you saviour of the world and companion of her noisome dwellers as obdurate as the devouring pit the abyss consumes the great devourer black gore drips from her horrid jaws and shrieks imbue the void and chasms may you fight in good steadfastness in vain and fear usurps the heart once overbrimming with boundless mirth now faltering and absconding into the earth the all-destroyer, the great consumer is I and raises her burning countenance through the cleaving ground and ravels in flames of discontent and fires belch from the yawning clefts to be consumed by sweet deicide and be free and nothing and all at once

Submitted by Morgoth — Apr 26, 2025

When innocence unfolds deep within the heart and joy on every bough does bide awhile and memories of verdant grass the obdurate soul beguile and cure whatever is amiss when you think yourself a gardener lovingly ploughing the soil and watering the parched earth my blood like a springtide does rise so high and overflows all bounds the orbless skull fancies a horrid benefactor's numinosity and dwells in changing sameness of nought that gluts the throat of all oh, barren earth — is this the new creation of nought? shall the gardener's plough trace a cleaving rut through parched soil to entice your black sap from deep below? the young bosom is cold for lack of mother earth's nourishment, tears and care we weep over the officious glory of death and death dwells in cities where the roots of every heart on earth infix deep their restless twists and wither the barren earth oozes blood and shakes and moans, to drink her children's gore I love your head — though vile it is a gardener ploughs the earth to reap the fetid ears to feed the young whose bosom is cold for lack of mother's nourishment and clouds are fraught with swords of lightning that part the shroud concealing the gardener's vision and chasing slumber from her eyes the transgressor hungers for new worlds to inherit black as bereft of light the pathless ways lead through vales anon and faint and weary I shall rest and sink into the barren earth

Submitted by Immortal — Apr 26, 2025