Oblivion

 

I

Hello, fiend, we meet again, sweet Oblivion;

here to stain your worthy axe, my blade

sings for your gut and spines surgeon.

Never wanted to town, but bogged goon

for the Holy Fool, abstained of civil hair!

Open thy womb, its time to share

the stories of old and what shall zoom –

II

Angel of Darkness, Tormentor of Joy – embrace

your Victor, for I shall put your rib-cage

as the borders of my Domain, make haste

with your skin, skulpting the skies firmament with taste!

Your tooth shall be stars and eyes the stage –

planes to live in for my splendor and image,

who's your daddy now, put on this lace!!

III

All Order to Chaos wedding of Sun and Moon;

who shall challenge my claim, what is Name!

Conflict is here to stain, until a spoon

dares to become silvered from brass heirloom.

Is it Big or little, maybe Nobody – Divine Game;

the Robin in the Hood, Horned-God of Infamy;

to replace the fallen trods, who wanted rest soon!

IV

I vowed for Pain's Reward, to measure my vessel

in the Valley of Death and Sound of Silent Remorse.

To glimpse the Abyss and take back the missing,

who Christ demanded in His presence fasten.

Now break your bow and reach your just course;

blessed are those, who reach their true Norse.

To Loki for the Sleipnir and bring back Aesir.

V

Come, Vanir, bring Gungnir to the caster;

none shall escape the call to Arms – Battle!

To War, until there's nothing to mar, bestow

Hatred amongst those souls, who refused to cater

to the needs of the people, crafting news scuffle

to rule them all – how shall you delver I huff

your Buffy into Buffalo Bill, good Indians plastered!

VI

Why do people “Praise the Lord” then fuck bitches

on their own accord, pay tithes but skip;

what's mui importante, cojones – Lord, Lord abridges

your Nash into Nil; even “Indeed” nor Godspeed switches

can't trigger to Promised Theme! You can ship

Only One – either Christ or Mammona your shit!

But you hope for the public rewarding of bicker!

VII

Sleeping Beauties, who rest assured: “Everybody

hates me, and is there to Buck the Kill-Bill tune!”

Who's gonna wake them up by lovers bloody

lips, after killing the Dragon and Baba-Yaga brooding!

People think like Cold-Turky – Its the Government Fool;

No, it is You, who should take blame and Prude

His Good and Evil; True and False, but you hiding –

VII

Who wants to be Snow-White or Rose-Briar;

but people rather shake that booty and hip

their gay vibrato – hope those likes will trial

your errors for a fair retire and not Tirol.

Discarded, Hungry and Thirsty for a warm hugnick.

Twerk your worth, for in time, none shall nip

your love, but mind their reserved Arcane ya'll!!