Vast Chains

Useless blood swayed by sunken moons The misty sun is grown a dimmer gold Where beauty with her doom conspires To tell in flame what death and beauty mean In a burnt land of ashes Winter and silence and woe have come Semen dried into the silence of rock and mineral Silence all-attending and supreme

Submitted by Grave666 — Apr 25, 2025

The burdens of embodiment and contingency Omnipresent delimiters An obsidian tower at every quadrant Blood and flesh are the parody of desire Lust is the plea before the executioner Endless moths swarming Golems of spoiled food and excrement I have seen vases and polished brass Reflect black windows The gardener’s lichen’s human scream

Submitted by Celtic Frost — Apr 25, 2025

The influence of repulsion A continuity of nothingness Mind betrays body Body betrays mind See us from outside Vast worms knotted by habit Vast chains to hold us down The failure of intimacy The impossibility of power The inexpressible loneliness of thinking The beast obscured by black dusk

Submitted by MetalElf — Apr 25, 2025

The murdered innocence of the sea Flux and permanence The wave’s black banners break endlessly The wolves of water that howl along our coast The live red flame of sunset eating the dead blue sky The sun-spangled blood of the woods Broken souls and bodies ruinous Sick with desire and fastened to a dying animal Meaningless as a burnt scroll that blackens with the passing of the fire

Submitted by Sexy Gargoyle — Apr 25, 2025

Refusing a heavenly mansion Raging in the dark But in the deserts of night and cold and void Gathered beneath a greater shadow's wings I saw a city where each house stood On a rock between black seas Solitude may rust your words

Submitted by SerpentEve — Apr 25, 2025

I cannot find a way through love and through To lose this ever-aching loneliness in vaster solitude Only a locked door The long remorse Vanished incommunicable moods The dolor in the bells of blinded lands The thousand-chorded monotones of pain Locked doors without keys Prisons without and prisons within Labyrinths of newsprint Coiled and rotting in your cave The black wastes of the evening sky Desolate oceans, and the light of lonely plains What in our lives is burnt in the fire of this? A burnt space through ripe fields

Submitted by Finntroll — Apr 25, 2025