Bishop Of Hexen - When A Witch Becomes A Pale Bride

Angry are the clouds which anesthetize
Former besetting episodes of assertive pain
An overwhelming blend of harmonious mirth & awe
Proclaims with much pride-dawn's out bursting rage

Cometh ye all astounded faces
I plea to thee-hear me now or nevermore
Poor puzzled pieces of human wreckage
Your wounds of heart & soul may heal-when shared

Surround me with your precious presence
My only request for now-is your dearest patience
Cull the words which portray your might
From miserable tiny pebbles-to stones of awesome sights

From rotting pallets filled with mold & mice
From grey hidden corners contaminated by the diseases of the soul which dies
Red shiny ink spills our luxuriant opera on-yellow dusty pages
Bathe with sweet nectar flowing from-aching mind-cages

Looking back-glaring at life
All these years of death-from Christs murderous knife
The drought which, bit by bit, gnawed our pride-
Insulting holy lies which poisoned meadows of the true dark-guide

Absorb with joy-the sweet new blood
Filling every heart-beat and instincts-slumber yet starved
Find me your poets, bring forth your bards
Let them sing kisses of evil to other world-parts

I can hear the owl recite
Diaries of primeval tragedies which confide
Truth & knowledge of matters we must tend
In theaters of witchcraft-we pretend

The craving of dreams to form the prophecy
Open vein-shaped roads resembling our complex-conspiracy
The rythem of the march excite to tears in our eyes
Don't other dare bark towards us-lest we rid them like flies

See my trembling cut open fingers
They remind me of the incredible secret which still lingers
Free yourself from all those lies which are told so often
For now our referendoms web-is catiously woven

Follow that trail left by the witches-most dark & pale
Embellish poetry in veins to breed
Together to submerge & sublimely-bleed
Restless retch anchors of holy clay
And gather triumphs to harvest in the golden fields of may

"As the streaks of fog & dust fade
A sight of grey ashes & soft limbs cut
The cold steel weapon, bleeding the emotion
Is the weight of pain on an old heart"

Sour blood streams freshly from my caged soul
The strange apathy of the sky-shameless to weep
How was I betrayed-my faith was so pure
The hate I resent-stalking blasphemy may be the cure

From falling steep-a broken man in guilt
To become fulfilled-from the vows to the dark needs

The winter strips the human shell from it's virginity
The winter grows & nourishes towards a dark-melancholy
The castle of trust & faith crumbles, and creates the path
The path on which will lead him from the relic of the past

Oh, god of harmony & filth
How the fresh air creates music
Blister, bitterness they ask
The witches have done their task
To seize an emotion and then, to cage it in your palm
Vexatiously trespass and pull it out of my poor, vulnerable heart
That material, which emotions are made-of
Replenish that morose void with repertoires of treason

"I anoint thee to scar the spring"

I caress the exact spot, which I once assaulted
I can feel those crooked lanes which force a mountain to bleed
To fly & crow a curse on places never seen
I hope, I beg, I crave for a raven's twisted dream

From falling steep-a broken man in guilt
To become fulfilled-from the vows to the dark needs

Gowns of fiendish beauty-decaying, curved sharp nails
Prince of evil's hags-hovering on thin air
Circle the ancient-caulderon of summoning
Mumbling the infinite dark hex

"Goat-headed father, raven on left, wolf at your right
Asmodeus & Zabulon"
Into our lungs we will inhale this night

The battle-cry of men
The screams in the living woods
It echoes in the valley
Yet the darkness remains mute

The surreal touch between steel & flesh
Invoked, between them, a tragedy of odour & liquids
A harmony conceived by drops of tears & blood

The outcome of the spell
It weaves a cloak of darkness
Which will harvest the new leader
The sweet whispers of betrayal

The night is drenched in mist and in the smell of battlefield
The ice cracks open from the dazzling smell of agony
His tragedy-the fire will burn forever in his veins
The wounds of flesh & soul will leave the-melancholic stains
Crippled, yet alive-stay you to be the teacher of the arts
"We condemn you to eternal enmity"!

With heavy armour and two-handed swords
The summoned fury of spelled-blinded hordes
As if it is in slow motion-sky as earth
Trembling under the hooves

The outcome of the spell
It weaves a cloak of darkness
Which will harvest the new leader
The sweet whispers of betrayal

Crushing the symbol of the bastard
The legions of the unholy horde
Creating this pagan feeling

For us the sun is thy moon
We will cross the sea
Destroying his cursed spree
We'll create a new humanity

Our demonic, five cornered star
Is high raised for our integrity
Tranquillity, silence & peace
From this day on will cease

"As high as the mountains are
So dark is the quest"

History will recreate itself
The force of our crusade-unleashed
Christianity-beheaded, gutted
The blood soaking sour, dry fields
Set our blasphemous fires through Christendom

Crushing the symbol of the bastard
The legions of the unholy horde
Creating this pagan feeling

For us the sun is thy moon
We will cross the sea
Destroying his cursed spree
We'll create a new humanity

I am the one who struck layers of plagues
Which ravaged the pure and the faithful "Job"

I am the ambiguous riddle in thousands of
Manuscripts & scrolls-spoken of by many, solved by none
You all, are the reflections of the sallowness
Of my own thoughts-soaked in craftiness,
Yet frightened from the gravely cost

Force-fed neglect of the darkened
Skills & arts of which virtue was stung
And kept, secretly, In hidden corners of our hearts

Brothers, sisters, let us not blame
Ourselves, let us not be ashamed of what
We have become

To take what rightfully was ours
To start our mighty saga from the point humanity was paused
To learn the lessons of the craft
To begin the quest towards the noble dark-cause

Deep, in the midst of a frozen forest
Winds enhance the nights exquisite colour
On a wooden throne of thousands of carved nightmares
Sits an obscure grim figure, yet with a salient paleness
"Was your task fruitful", a dry voice inquires,
"Have you created what was agreed upon"?
"Yes we have, oh dark master, to the unholy
Heritage he is, now, drawn".

"Leave me at once-begone-fetch him,
For a new era shall be born"

Come walk towards our alluring trinity
Free your bewildered senses & memories
Entangle with our bodies, grasp our quivering breasts
Taste & indulge on our salty, wet flesh.
Our liquid of desire turns your dry lips moist
Melt in our seduction, forget your painful loss
Merge with our beings, as you're wrapped in treachery
Our beguiling quilt of wrath wiles your fragile will to live

Take a step into our hellish blaze
Let this bewitching serum-poison your veins
Now, follow our malice to your new destination
Purge yourself to this renewal of creation

"This weather of tantalized intentions
Will fertile our malicious plots & schemes
Hark, witches of emotional-decay,
Harbor our chosen one-in my domain"

Dead frozen boughs-break in pain
As these four strange-images walk through the forest plains
Through the trees, and through the sinuous paths
Strolls this company-the odour of evil left behind

Sensuality pours like a fresh mountain-spring
Evil's voluptuousness fills the forest's hollow seeds
Observe the powerful magic which thrives between the leaves
Kneel and may you turn to be the new symbol of our breed

"You are the chosen one from all mankind
To be my messanger, to be my right-hand
You shall be my mouth to speak
Which I haven't dared for thousands of years"
I am but a poor lonely shade
Raped, deprived, stripped of everything I've-ever made
Anointed to bring upon man, plant or breast
This new tide to be released
This is my destiny

We'll ride the twilight-shores of mysteries
An aura weaved from the ethics of our mythology
Weary, foamy, waves crash in harmony
Silent signs before the grand-storming

These ancient spheres-me, they will cleanse
For the final test
To overcome the final obstacle
To bring this world to rest...

Muster scarce trails to pursue the final tales
I might appeal once quizzed, tested & feeled
Oh, these cuts-cut-open and observed
Though barely alive-cautiously preserved

Molested are my cries
Dispersed like transparent rime
Yet strangely I see trees
Which assail with stabbing scenes

Thus maladies & their remedies mix
So violently they create loathsome tricks
Labyrinth of angles-so twisted
Shape & form the inevitable-

Through the hexen's mind
Through the sharpness of her nails
Into her grim thoughts he now sails

Lame and sterile pain
Becomes now the most desirable pain
Washed to a pond of tears
Emptied to a valley of the gifted fears
Goblets of wisdom dried
When a witch becomes a pale bride
To the raving beauty of a doubt
A garland-old & worn-out

"Here lies he who never lyed
Whose skill so often hath been tryed
Their prophecies shall still survive
And ever keep their name alive"