SaintHorror

God is screaming, Angel’s wings a beating, And here I am a mortal man. Risen up from the pit, After I conquered it, And I became king of my personal hell. If there were a Dante to save me, If there were a Virgil to guide me, I would turn them down. For this is my hell, Spawned from my own pit And I will beat my Lucifer to the ground. As I stand triumphant, I will turn my gaze to Heaven, And know my lust isn’t sated. For that is where my Beatrice resides, And I will hear the angels cry, As the gates begin to fall. For I am man Part of no God’s plan Subject to no one else’s but my own.

I feel I’m dying, yet I feel no fear Not a soul around me, not a single tear. And here I am, a lonely husk, Waiting to fade into the warmth of the dusk. Death is doting, Death is sweet, Death is inviting, she promises sweet release. I do not give easily; I give my mistress a tease, I love to make her wait, and I laugh as I breathe. Yet she is impatient, a call I must take heed, I know it to be kindness; she wants my soul to be freed. So I give up the game, I give her a smile and a wink, And into the blackness, with happiness I sink.

Long and Arduous Is the road that we tread, As I look into the distance My heart is filled with dread. Forever on it stretches, Unto the horizon, no end in sight. God left me to be wretched, But to the end I must fight. Oh weary traveler Don't you stray From the path Laid at your feet. Down the Shadowed Road We all travel So we can find release, Sweet release. The further down the road, The greater the twists and turns. The less the cool breeze blows, The harsher the asphalt burns. Along the road are shadows, Of those who fell before. Don't let the pain consume you, Lest you join their score. Oh weary traveler Don't you stray From the

Forgive me For your car That I had borrowed Has been totaled I may have been A little drunk But that's to be Expected I may Compensate for your loss But do not Expect it

Wednesday, the 15th of October 1873: Today I awoke with minor pain in the afflicted shoulder, and nausea.  After emptying myself of last-nights supper, and forgoing a light breakfast, I adorned myself in casual day ware; and set of down the road towards the doctor's place of residence.  Traveling down the road upon which I was assailed did no wonders for my vulnerable belly, and to add woe upon tragedy, my shoulder ached with a fury unknown to mortal men; what a splendid morning I endured! After trudging through the gauntlet of unimaginable pain for what seemed an hour, I had finally arrived at the outskirts of the hamlet.  The bustling

Tuesday, the 14th of October, 1873:   Dearest journal, a most frightening event befell me this evening on the way back from market, and if my trembling hand allows, I would like to chronicle this most terrifying event in my brief history.  As I stated before, I was walking along the market path to my little home outside the nearby hamlet.  The moon was, and still is, bright and wide as it was on the day of creation.  It's serene light caressed everything within eye-shot, which is why I was so surprised when the blackest of shadows appeared right before my eyes. It was a bipedal beast of some sort, with eyes of burning coal, an unkempt shag

Clixth-tangg, lunnghhracz zwavm wol glogh gor cohl qutan d'lyngh cohl qutan qral'gkarak m'nu folgan uhlek kelhm mol'gha kelhm mol'gha Shub-Shub-Shub-Niggurath Shub- xex'qol nogal Shub-Shub-Shub-Niggurath Shub- xex'qol nogal Zhel'rahk gohm f'tyann sohm'foh niuyyg gohtul goh'fyomm niuyyg gohtul Contwoz rog' ghrizxex'mog gorttab hogg gorttab hogg Shub-Shub-Shub-Niggurath Shub- xex'qol nogal Shub-Shub-Shub-Niggurath Shub- xex'qol nogal

Lonliness incarnate, Is the Lord of the End. To his throne, Is where sadness is sent. Fetid wind is his breath For the Lord of the End is the face of Death. O'Lord of the melancholy, O'Lord of sighs Only sadness is what reigns in your eyes. For you are Death Shunnned by the Dead Wallow in lonliness, For you are the End.

A Man once stood on a hill, The man looked to his left and saw the toil of his kin, A monument to inginuity, yet a home for vice and sin. It had steel mountains rising on high to scratch the heavens, And fetid veins that touched the flames of hell. When the city took first breath, the skies were ravaged And as the years went by God's eyes were blackened This is the home of man, on the left of the hill. Next, The man looked to his right and laid eyes on Eden Or the road less travled, unknown by most men. With the children of the forrest playing their tune It reminded the man of the smells of fresh Spring noon Eden with with wilder

Something so pure now filled with dread, Leaded Water, Leaded Water, Now that our childhoods are all but dead. Land that we cherished falling to peices, Leaded Water, Leaded Water, Because of lies told by those who decieve us. New thoughts fill the void in your head, Leaded Water, Leaded Water, Now you repeat what other have said. Our future now is not very bright, Leaded Water, Leaded Water, Can we be the ones to bring it to life