Deggial's Deception

"In the dead of night, 

amidst the ceaseless scroll,

a name emerges from the abyss - 

familiar, haunting.

A surge of longing,

a shadowed yearning.

Oh, how I ache for thee."

- Bash Spellspectre the Vivisector, 8th June 2024

In what could only be surmised

as Deggial's deception

An echo of you rippled through

the ocean of time and electronic data

forming an image

which I am yet to grasp

with my own physical senses

Like a pontianak

we would like to nail your neck

so to corporealize

your being in this physical plane of existence

Halfscore and two

firmly carved into our beliefs

of your untimely demise

o beautiful God's creation

at which sight mortals swooned

And when you once again beckoned

we feel nought but elated

indescribable, this miracle

small, these humble hands o mine

this blessing to cup

Reminding us once again

of whom we owe our lives to

never to again turn our eyes away from

Floret Silva sans Nobilis

Crowned with corruption embraced
the many insects crawl over
such rare beauty
split open in the belly
and suitored with flies

i) First Kill

befouled arms of a monster reaching out
from the depths of much hated memory
in which the self was stained with filth

beclawed hands of a monster birthed
from the shallows of tragedy come to be ardent
in which the self was twisted further with lies

told to one's own self to preserve the sanity
and rationalize yet-to-be-understood madness
as thoughts took refuge behind obedience so wonderful

and finding delight in artless dissections
crimson flowers that bloom on fields of flesh torn
with precise execution and zero deliberation

ii) Second Kill

nothing scares the sanity more
than seeing a reflection of its own self
committing the very depravations it so gleefully embraced
and then finding the mirror image so readily match up
as if they were meant to be all these time
a supposed welcomed warmth and relieving familiarity
in this hostile and unforgiving cell repulsed
oblivious however, the wild child remained steadfast
with what he knew and only know to do
to keep chasing after his only brethren in the world there

iii) Twin Vultures

liberating offenses, or mere addiction to approval
against stifling expectations of orders absolute
insured by filial piety
for that dreaded loyalty to death
and though his presence was balm to the heart
his violence was bane to her existence
stopping her cold from that warm embrace
her words died on her lips for him
leaving him to chase her thoughts
by what he knew
only to further push her away

eyes, only eyes could pay for eyes
as she aimed for the one she used to rely on the most there

iv) Plucked

no will to freedom
only existing
being slaves to shame

another one just like you
brought down by your own hands
so to preserve your peace in chaos

your own self brought down
with no resistance on your part
so to preserve your chaos in peace

v) T-0

staring at the broken dolls, feeling
the end that did not come, howling
at the herald of much needed rest retreating
from the world, yet the body still moved

vi) Ashes

old shadows followed everywhere you went
a gathering of pieces making the new
from remnants of the past fallen apart
still clinging close to the veins of the heart

flames rose high everywhere you had been to
a chase unrelenting of hounds making off
with torn pieces that you had built
which found you wishing for impermanence

for all that remained only cause painful attachment

try as you did to love the world
that ever seem to refuse
when the option to leave life is denied
you cannot win

for all that you have left to you only cause unnecessary destruction

try as you did to contain the corruption
whom always refuse withdrawal
when the only choice is to remain
with you always

as old shadows that crept up behind perpetually
a gathering of souls in common vice and folly

vii) Plastic Phoenix

the old shadows hang heavy behind
while uncertainty rules the way forward
a captive remained you are
to the restraints long forgotten
as the only way you knew to move on
and you did well
on the sidelines
well-trodden with meanings
smouldered intentions
for whatever it was no longer remember

and you did well
even perhaps you did shine a little
in your own capacity
for you too wished well
for those who still struggle
no matter how dim

for your only wish is
for others to move on
stepping over you with dignity
as the last remnant of the past
with or without knowledge
even as you were thrown once more into light

but your shackles were torn
and you are frightened of the unknown
freedom

Black Rain

rejoice, fellow tortured souls
for we have denominated the devils
together we shall mend by the broken
sleep in fire
our souls are burning in
being born broken beings
no longer human
we play pretend to be gods of our own lives
and then we weep in the deathly quiet
confessions that never leave our lips
for our shame rained down
like tar and shed fur

10th November 2017
#30: Altered Universe

Hollow

certain sounds invoking past sensations
of fear, of lightlessness, and of wakeless nightmares
setting in motion set responses conditioned
erratic, the eyes are afraid to blink
lest images flash behind the crimson lids
like waiting for the poison arrow to hit its mark
like a deer frozen in its tracks
   caught by the stare of the tiger among leaves and tall grass

attempts to step out of the space faltered
much too ingrained, each second pounds in the heart
mayhem, each step is haunted
by spectres of a past felt ever so close still
right next to the ribcage, rising and falling rhythms
drowning the voice of reason hovering just over the head
like the dreaded pendulum swinging down ever inch closer
   upon the poet blinded by ecstasy that it is an agony

beliefs do not take any precedence nor pose as salvation here
only lies comforting the approachment
only lies quieting the throes of painful silence
paintings so mum of the apparent violence portrayed
maddening madrigals from the dark woods
accompanying the mad queen riding on mad black dogs
presiding over the impending doom
   executed right here within the supposed sanctuary

help was not screamed out
neither it was spoken out
only careless, meaningless whispers
carried away on the wind at dusk
when nature stands still
when one is alone amongst the many

21st May 2018
#31: Return to Earth

Return to Earth

an urgency, a call to return
back down to Earth
after years lost to absolute regency

resurrect the devil's little sister
long had lain rotting
in the crypts of modernity
which comprehends no heart's frailty

we do not live by your being alive
and neither do we die with your death

regaled dreams of absurdity
laced with violence and agents of sleep
stood sentinel the muted and dead woods
in blackwaters and dark thoughts

hearken to golden black days
only us three, so cherished like flowers
blooming only once
to adorn this bleakness of no hope

where the Earth spins to an end
fantastical beasts roam the skies
measured down to the nearest decimal place
becoming lost among the stars

spacecrafts in liveries never seen
coming not with biddings of war
but glad tidings that life on Earth
   is not all there is to it

the black-clad one could still love
despite misfortunes endured
repeated failings to resurface to reality
and continuous attempt to articulate

we do not speak by your only language
and neither do we sleep while you slumber

19th May 2018
#31: Return to Earth

Nothingville in Dreams (Interlude)

forget not the pain, the shame
though your memory denies
the blood remembers
the place recalls you to return
the brain aneurysm

smash the mandibles 'til they go past one another
weighed down by unwanted burden

all these creations just to cope
all these suicides committed by hope
no longer I could tell who died this time
though I do wish to know
for living and for peace

1. Obsidian Mirror

she lies in these dark and still waters
preserved in memory so bitter
of the years of fruitless labour
against the ebb and flows of unlife

she stares at her blank features artless
reflected in the tarnished mirror
pained remembrance of winged hours
flown out the window, never to return

death is certain for every that breathed
yest this life is no longer felt real

unborn child of dreams
conception nipped in the bud
our Mayborne is stillborn
her cradle is our tomb

she lies still in this frozen image
of a time most hurtful to be remembered
her stony figure disappearing soon
beneath the waves of November monsoon

the black vicar begins his poison sermon

for all those gathered here
from each corner of the consciousness
regardless of professed dominion
sinners international

there is yet love lingering here
however demented, however mangled

such a burden is this life to live
lowly the markers are laid in this chapter
too wounded you have been for so long
far too long you have been living on

for something you were no longer sure what it was
for some dream no longer felt to be yours
for a life no longer seemed to be of any worth
not even for a lie of any resemblance to a truth

the far shores come to our feet
as we bid farewell to our wrecked ship
we bury underneath mock prayers
and blasphemous tributes

she shall remain our poisoned stone
as each of us set off again to our corners
and when the ends of the earth meet again
we shall convene here at her beckoning

because there is yet hatred flowering here
much wounding in the heart, yet so dear

slowly we descend into the obsidian mirror
the shards of which lacerate our souls
the hue of which stained the whites of our eyes
into her bosom, deep into slumber like death

that we all gladly welcome in respite from the world

2. Hydrogen Lakes

the stars they beckoned to their sea
uncharted dark waters, imperceptible dark matter
pierced only by the lights of the loneliest
that faked adventurous stories of faraway voyages
if only for company of a child at night
staring at her long put down fantasies beside her
of marooned ships floundering in decay and paper
dragon-shaped and winged
she clutched at invisible meshes that kept it all together
as she flitted from one known dimension to a new one just discovered
cat-eyed and wild-hearted
yet to be announced at any hall
though not that it mattered at all

3. Bogged

I tremble before the vast emptiness
that terrifying expanse
within one's own soul to be found,
to be made aware of
after the death

unsure steps arranged
dipping slowly in the tarny waters

twilight years defined
I shudder at each thought going inward
threatening a collapse

looming imminent
emptying the skull
as some form of quiet madness

memories fade into forgetfulness
reasoning dulled by constant suppression
courage lulled by false sense of security
as ideas checked for correctness

hung heavily upon the shoulders
less and less willing the body bears
ashes of hope

the coldness of steel much welcomed
to alleviate the numbness
to cut through the stillness
as one shivers
as one steps closer to the edge
under a black hole sun
in a camera obscura

4. Dead Marshes

so precious and so plain
were the dreams once mine

and now there they lie
exposed on the dry riverbed
red underneath broken black
fervently disintegrating under the sun

in fragments, having shattered
parasitically latching on living flesh of memory
sometimes fondly nursed to reconciliation
most times festered like cancer

that canker that wounds the hearts of mothers

so tenacious, and so maimed
were the will to live

jarred inside formaldelhyde piety

so twisted and so monstrous
were the will to death

5. Methane Flame

scatter me to the stars
even if it was just a lowly dream
never deserved of this humble existence

light my hopes and dreams on fire
to fraily survive through the night endless
never enough to amount to anything worthwhile

it tingles, the sensations of anticipation
for an end of all ends for one nameless soul
leaving behind pure desires undisclosed

our names unregistered and forgotten
in our moment of ecstasy
blending into the shadows cut by lightless mercy

my lifeblood shall lease you unlife nondesirable
necessary evil committed by an innocent
heaviest sin on blameless lost ones

shadows lengthened to reach back to the past unchanged
mourned enough, even he shall disappear yet remained here
standing sentinel over grief like dusk before night

6. The Grim

whereto shall we now go
repentless, yet what was it
that we died for, killed ourselves for
no longer could we remember
nowhere is left for us to go
though none would willingly wish-
no, words were not enough
cut short of actually spoken
as if forbidden, out of innate fear
because it is inherently cut clear

7. Blue Lids

cover us all with the shroud of night
that serene quiet tinted black

sorry we are not for leaving things undone
at this point in time, the profane no longer holds
in the face of our untimely degradation

sorry we are for living far too long
far too long than we were welcomed

let us retreat into the darkness where we came from
retrace our steps along the unlighted path
put back in place the weighted slab

where we shall sleep indefinite
in this severe quiet benighted heart

gradually our words cease to come out
as our minds suffocate inside

vi er likke lenger elsket har
we are no longer loved here

(Outtro)

has one of us left us without us knowing?
shall we mourn to recognize the passing?
someone somewhere weeps with me
but my tears only fall for her
and the words dying in me

4th - 9th November 2017
#30: Altered Universe

Manners Street

the streets take several turns to get to
the streets ask several turns to call to
recorded memories that play as you roll by
invoked memories that intrude as you pass by
mentioned in passing
projected in selected scenes
half pleasant, another not so
but none secondhand
in manner and in detail
sometimes gently, sometimes violently
striking on your daily meanderings
taking me on on my wanderings
to hidden alleys mostly charming
only a single one is frightening
thoughts that avoid from defining
you by it
and yet,
here is me, afraid
many miles and hours away
heeled by the steps I took on you that day
and haunted by the state of mind I was in that day
set to music and scored in stone
ready to crumble down on me any moment
when the merest memory of you surfaced

13th September 2017
#30: Altered Universe

The Void

empty as soulless eyes
and vast as the moonless ocean
the dark speaks closer to the truth
than anything that ever walked under the sun

what comes after the decay is a form
of seduction of sirens
to further hydrolize remnants
of this oxidized iron of a heart

break down the ligatures that display
the butchered remains of faith
about to fall off about
the cervix

circumnavigate these treacherous waters
the surface of which is deceptively calm
underlying, a raging current of maggots

i) Solemn Siren

perhaps your death would spot the light
on the path towards the right
and even if it does not, it is entirely alright
because it is truly within this frailty lies the human might
so to my dearest heart departed: goodnight

ii) Sacred Spirit

of all things sacred, the soul
in pain and in kindred, run afoul
of the profane and the divine
poured dry as perjurial wine
no more, it says
shall we heed the words and the ways
away from what the benighted had always
known ever so deeply as strays

iii) Methane

it lies outside the gates
as one unmarked grave
ever there as sore reminder
of the things that shall remain
yet to be addressed

it remains outside our place
as one appointed to judge
ever there as firm testament
of the things that should remain
yet not ours to possess

though singly it exist
a thousand of it can be found together
huddled close somewhere no one able to see
except for those able to perceive
and those left in its wake

and by the white flowered trees that wept
in silence and in defiance of romanticization
in darkness and in hope of redemption

iv) Falling Through

tried for sins yet to be committed
in accordance each with their profession
spooled into thread, and the fabric woven
tremor in the fibre of being
with terrifying patterns

v) The Train

of thoughts never so splendid
oft ridiculed, seldom successfully
dragged out of its tunnel
that channeled and bored into
a million souls of many colours
another taking its place as one fades
taking the hit from the train
long shining single in the eye
in the darkness of one's own mind
as light does to the moth
and the string on the heart that tugs
tying us down in the mud
where the tracks are laid, always in twos

- for Chester Bennington (1976-2017)
18th July 2017
#30: Altered Universe