Red Roses for thee my Beloved
Red Roses coloured with my fresh Blood

Red Roses standing Proud and Tall
Red Roses deny the coming of Fall

Red Roses with petals so Weak
Red Roses is what for I Seek

Red Roses without Beginning nor End
Red Roses for Thee I Send

Red Roses to show my Love
Red Roses before thy beauty Bow

Red Roses I giveth

Red like the blood i would shed for Thee.

I am stretched on your grave
And will lie there forever
With your hands held in mine
I'd be sure we'd not sever
My apple tree my brightness
'Tis time we were together
For I smell of the earth
And am stained by the weather

When my family thinks
That I'm safe in my bed
From night until morning
I am stretched at your head
Calling out to the air
With tears both hot and wild
Oh I grieve for the girl
That I loved as a child

The priests and the friars
Behold me in dread
Because I still love you
My love and you're dead
I would still be your shelter
From rain and from storm
And with you in your cold grave
I cannot sleep warm

Oh I am filled with sadness when I look upon this world.

So many broken souls, so many lost homes.

Oh, mye hearth trembles before Thy name,

Thy name is Sorrow,

Thy realm that of shades,

in ashen forest.

I want to save them all!

Those poor Lost Souls!

Let me embrace Them!

Those are the only Worthy!

I have a word for thee:

Thou haveth Fallen.

Thou Cannot Rise!

Thou Arth in the Abyss!

Ever in Free Fall!

Thou need wings to Live.

Thy whisper only I can hear:

They say Love gives one Wings.
Then come teach me how to fly!

But My Embrace is bound to too many.

And that is for certain a Curse.

Sort out thy prayers.
Lay it down in many layers.
Create a world of thy Dreams
and Nightmares ...

Seek out the one with a Golden torch.
Sing thy song to the Dance of those flames
and go ever on

Through dreams and Death it all lives on.
Past borderlines and midnights moon
all will find a distant peace
within their mind.

The Storm approaches
thy ship shallt not last this night.

Yet thy dreams lives ever on.

Another day is gone.

Another year is gone.

Another life is gone.

Another life to come.

Another war is born,

out of the ashes of the old one,

rising in the Shadows,

soon to embrace All.

Growing life,

and another year of growth.

My Wish is for another triumph,

my hopes for another Dawn,

we stand here united in the Ashes,

free to grow another wood.

West goes my love,

North goes my roads,

East goes my memories,

South goes my future.

I am united and yet many more than when I started.

Embers of a new Fire is kept alive,

this fire of Creation is soon to come,

and I live under these clouded nights on its behalf,

waiting for the Dark to signal its release.

Music soon to be made,

embroids of the callings to be announced,

and songs of War and Lust to made free.

Hail the Memories of 2003!

Hail the Forthcoming of 2004! 

Make haste. Because thou arth drowning!

All the little streams of water together fill thy room quick.

And whipes thou off the chart of Life.

So I bring out the water, slightly faster than it gets in.

And I regain dry land. For so long.

But not everlasting. Because the world is crying.

At that greatest sorrow shall never stop.

I hunt the mysteries of Femininum.

I am haunted by the shadows of Venus.

At last I regained contact with the one from the Kings Mountain.

Shallow shallt I walk, when on the road to certain doom I travell.

What is dying but to cease existence. It is nothing painfull.

But I dont wish to grant death to wrote me off. Not yet.

I still have some important things to do.

So I stand here, on my oh so temporary dry land.

And wish for better days. Even if it is futile.

-

I am drowning in Sorrows. I have become wiser in the passing year.

Yet one can never grow wise enough. Not in this world.

-

I spread my web, this year is the start.

I dry my tears, how in vain should a life be?

To all my friends:

I care of you, even if it may seem I neglect you.

It is all coming so fast these days, be patient.

To all my foes:

You have laughed at me. You have spit me in me face.

You have ruined my castles in sand, you have tried to break my rise.

I am neither blind nor lame, neither forgivefull nor weak.

In due time all who deserve it tastes my steel.

-

... And under the Twillight suns, he approached the Wisdom himself, and asked him of the meaning of Everything and All. Wisdom stood silent for some moments, then he answered:

"If I told you, my purpose would be lost. And if my purpose would be lost, I would be lost too. And if I am lost, this world would surely fall."

And thus I knew the answer to my question is this:

zero

Draussen, in dieser kaltes Winternacht.

Ein melodie ich gehört. Dieser melodie macht mich tanzen,

und ich tante zum die Melodie auf der Totes Welt.

Nie mehr Krieg hat er gesagt.

Nie mehr Herzeleid sagte sie um mir.

See am mich heute, allein ich sitzen draussen in der Weisser Schnee.

Der Schnee bist nicht mehr kalt.

Und ich sieht dieser Weinachtsbaume, wie sie scheint. Und ich hab gehört:

-

Hoppe hoppe Reiter

Hoppe hoppe Reiter
wenn er fällt, dann schreit er,
fällt er in den Teich,
find't ihn keiner gleich.

Hoppe hoppe Reiter
wenn er fällt, dann schreit er,
fällt er in den Graben,
fressen ihn die Raben.

 

 

Hoppe hoppe Reiter
wenn er fällt, dann schreit er,

fällt er in die Steine,
tun ihm weh die Beine.

 

Hoppe hoppe Reiter
wenn er fällt, dann schreit er,
fällt er in die Hecken,
fressen ihn die Schnecken.

 

Hoppe hoppe Reiter
wenn er fällt, dann schreit er,
fällt er in die Hecken,
beissen ihn die Zecken.

 

Hoppe hoppe Reiter
wenn er fällt, dann schreit er,
fressen ihn die Müllermücken,
die ihn vorn und hinten zwicken. (Kind kitzeln/Tickle child)

 

Hoppe hoppe Reiter
wenn er fällt, dann schreit er,
fällt er in den tiefen Schnee,
gefällt's dem Reiter nimmermeh'.

Hoppe hoppe Reiter
wenn er fällt, dann schreit er,
fällt er in den Sumpf,
dann macht der Reiter... Plumps! (Kind "fallen lassen")

All the People,
sitting in the houses,
Million upon million,
They are all Dead.

I sit here in my own house,
still alive and breathing,
my heart barely breathing,
and tempted to join the ranks of Death.

- -

I am so sick and tired of myself,
Everytime I try i get a wrong,
i have allways been a wierdo,
and not even you did understand.

So I weight this knife in my hands,
and try it on my arm,
its sharp enough to cut through flesh and bone,
and so my life might end.

I gave you my hearth and my soul.
I hoped you would give me yours so I could forever care for them.

But all I ended up with was getting my hearth broken and soul rejected.

Why does this allways happen to me?
Why is life this cruel?
I hoped you could answer me. I hoped you did understand.
I hoped you did feel the same. But if that is true, then why this?

One may call it something else than breaking up,
but it is still the same thing.

So therefore I ask you.

And that is all I will ever ask for again if you dont want to.

Now my worst nightmare came through. I might have known it, but denied to see the truth in their eyes. The Grounds of my beloved does not elude to me as a solution anymore. She has cast me away, under the word that this is in the best meaning, it would be the best for both. But I am no believer. I only accept what I see. I had cast all my magica away onto her template, yet not bound her, because I thought of myself as ensnared. Som come tell me: Am I incapable of doing anything, just anything, without failure?

Who am I? Why am I? Where am I? What am I?
If you know the answer, please tell me.

Broken bonds once again, they become torn asunder one after one, never can all bonds be broken, yet never may they become as new.

I wished for an eternity with thee, all I got was some grain of sand from the hourglass of man. See you in the Abyss, may life be less troublesome there. I shall wait.

RIP Rasmus & Lillian 9. November 2003

Dupletter: Tårens Betrakninger Innen den Brister.

I. Det hjelper ikke en sommerfugl om høsten
Å vite at efter vinter kommer sommeren.

II. Hvor fåfengt er det vel ikke av det gamle eketre
å kjempe mot en skogbrann ved å rasle med sitt løv?

III. Hvem bringer bud til Spurvemor
At hennes små forsvant under hjul på Motorveien?

IV. Han som Drepte sine Venner for å Jage en Drøm.
Akk Ja, Drømmer varer dog altfor kort, og man våkner Ensom

V. De satte Fyr på Huset.
Og brant inne sine egne Barn.

Ingen eier mindre enn den som har Alt.
VI.
Hvor tar Sokkene veien når man Vasker Dem?

VII. Der finnes et speil som ikke speiler Sannhet,
Men viser hva Egentlig burde vises.

VIII Kom, hold armene dine rundt meg,
innen jeg fryser ihjel.

IX. Noen ganger må man selv holde armene rundt seg.
Om man da varmer andre, fryser man selv Ihjel.

Rasmus Olsen. For Lillian

Now I am about to take the final steps. Now I am about to leave the forest burning behind me. Now it is time to let anger be past. I have changed myself, but my surroundings remained the same. Therefore I flee to the land far away. I flee to my Beloved. There I hope to find peace.

So let the flames lick my crypt, it is allready doomed. So let my altar be broken into a thousand shards, I have no more need for it. So let my life become whole, and let the past be gone.

Much has happened the last couple of days. And now I am going to finish it all off. Now I am about to kill the last flames by leaving them alone.

And hail all those who walked this path before me, and to those who shall walk it after me.

I can feel her.
The cold wind.
Ever wheeping,
mourning her loss.

Here i see here,
up ahead of me,
frosty eyes,
and kiss of death.

It carries me away,
into the frozen kingdom,
lays me there in her bed,
and bids me rest.

Her cold arms make me slumber,
her silent song make my mind grow dense,
her taers all ice,
she mourns her loss.

I close my eyes,
my limbs feel numb,
my skin all cold,
snowflakes on my chest.

Cold slumber,
eternal darkness,
the kindsness of this frozen earth,
she will allways watch my grave.

I open my eyes.

And I see no grey sky,
no ice, no cold,
no winter, no snow,
she the cold wind is gone.

But I know she will come again,
and one day she shall conquer me,
and bring me all way down,
into her Frozen bed of Ice.

Some books you might want to read.

Remember: Self-insight and Illumination is the key.

Anton Szandor LaVey : The Satanic Bible

Aleister Crowley : The Book of Lies

Aleister Crowley : The Book of the Law

I Wake up this one Cold Morning,
but did not find my Darling love,
All I found was this cold shoulder,
Defying my Love.
I would bring my life for her,
I would cut out my own Hearth to save her.

She is the Reason for my Life,
she is why I can Breathe and my Hearth still Beats
It is Beating the rythm of this song.

And this Shoulder
showed me off to solitude,
without my Love or anyone
by her side i sit and
silently cry, in this winter
solitude, waiting for my love
to come and kiss me with her
bloodred lips and fill me with the
burning fires of life again.

But here I lay still.
It could all soon be gone.
My Love has not yet come.

All Hail!
I bring tidings from beyond.

The Wine is good,
the Food taste well,
the Fires burn intensly,
and upon we lay You.

Taste my words,
smell my breath,
seek my eyes and be forever bound:
my will unbound, my mind undone.

What is this tale I hear?
Two friends found a foe
sleeping in the grass.
Thus those friends slay their foe
with sharpened steel
while he was still with Morpheus.
And I have heard he still haunts them at night,
demanding justice for this deed.

I have washed my hands in blood,
freshly drawn from fellow souls.

I have cut my own throat so I can see,
the tree of wisdom and what matter to me.

Yet I have seeked out the Red Rose,
and found it to be far away,
yet I have prevailed and travelled the road,
and thus I came upon these rocks,
sought out my maiden of Venus,
and declared my hands swept clean,
yet dirty of guilt,
for what can eyes be of use for,
when tongue betrais the sight?

Please silence me,
I live in luck.

Please slay me now,
I want to die happy,
with pure darkness in my soul,
and the bloodmoon shining before my eyes.

I have lost the woods of childhood.
They are forever broken.

Yet I have found somewhere to dwell,
where the sun never shines,
eternal darkness it is swept within,
here I shall care of my Red Rose,
my Love, my happiness, my reason for life.

So shut the doors to the Prison.
Dont let the keepers get me!
I hate them, as much as I hate the Prison,
yet I will never hate the wisdom kept within,
the Knowledge it holds, this flame of essence.

I seek hiding from this Prison and its keepers.
I am afraid of entering, the burden seem me to heavy.
I want to serve my love for Knowledge somewhere else,
somewhere quiet and safe, somewhere I feel happy,
where the cold Prison rules cannot get me.

Oh, my Love, I long for thee!
Why art thy so far from me?

Eternal lust,
eternal love,
eternal care,
and never fear,
because I shall allways be near.

What is these words doing to me?

I cast them as a Spell,
to bind Thee, to rip my hearth out and sacrifice it,
on this altar.

My Altar has been built, daemons have been summoned,
the Windows to the Others are open, the chanting of
Empty Trees overwhelm my sanctuary, I seek knowledge
from the Watcher Witches of Wisdom, on this altar I
spread out my dreams, and let the Daemons fight,
here iwatch fantasy unfold and logic comes short,
here I spend many an hour, to Sacrifice.
And the three X's demands their toll.

Here I rest in my Sanctuary,
waiting for the day when All are gone.

Here i hide from the Light,
waiting for the shelter of Night.

I endure the cold Ice, I endure the burning Fires,
I endure suffocating in this barely sustainable crypt.

Someone feed my Spiders: They hunger for Flesh!

And beware: there be monsters on the Walls,
ever crawling in the Shadows of Deeper Dark.

Images of Friends and Fellow Souls fly by,
in the Windows to the Others.

The ever spawning crystal ball of Minor Irritational Rare Questions spew 
her Words upon me, like I care?

So damned be those who try to harm my Monolith of the Altar.
Those I would condemn to eternity upon eternity of boyband
music and spew of Daemons.

And I shall once again rise when the time is near,
and once again this reign of terror shall fall at the hands of Them.

But Them are We, and We shall take their place in these absurdities.
So all Hail Them, they are new but eternally old, they have no might,
yet they rule this Earth. They harm noone, yet kills whole nations,
and never walks in light, lest light would betray them.

These where the words of a madman. These words tell the story of Nothing.
Yet that was a lie.

dark enchantments fill the air
whispers as if they where near
please speak loud so they obey
thy voice shalt rule their decay

PRAEDICANS PRAECEPTUM MORTEM;
QUI IUDICATIS SANCTUM INFERNO;
VIA VICI CAVE TEMPUS;
VERBATIM: VADE MECUM!

and as the first leaves fall to the ground
making this worlds doom forever bound
by this darkness i find light
with this blood i install my might

"I Am Not Goth" by Matt G. Paradise

A good essay writen from a Satanic point of view about the sheephoards calling themselves Goths, without knowing what the label implifies.

You do not realize yourself by acting like everyone else, and rebelling against society as a norm, just for the sake of Revolt.

 

http://www.purgingtalon.com/nlm/nlmessays.htm

The Moon shines brightly upon these old Woods.

It shines trough the old branches, seeking life.

 

Yet life is dead in these Woods, there is no growth.

It poisoned itself by denying connection between roots and branches.

 

And every day, another proud stem fell lifeless upon the dark carpet of the forest floor.

And everytime the songs of mourning grew higher untill painfully disrepair schattered it.

 

And the road through the Woods came to a Halt.

the forests suffocatet, dim lights drawing shadows of Pain.

 

And here Love was lost as the last grievous loss.

 

-

 

And the Moon looked helplessly upon the Tradegy of these Woods.

and so the roads split in two, the one by the ways of Chaos, the other along the commandments of Order

 

And that was the day these Woods died.

 

(Today two that stands me dear goes apart. Twice shalt the roads of dear become. Split shalt their fate be, they did never master their relationship.)

Oh so proud of his sharp fangs.

Silently hunting his prey.

Dancing with Darkness.

Through Eternities.

 

Seeking out blood for lust and for game.

Not for need or hunger.

 

A silent lust he bears, he lusts for fame.

to drop the Masquerade,

to cross the Laws.

And so he Does.

 

This is the play of roles and costumes, but most never realize that this is not fiction.

 

This is for real.

 

(This way I celebrate my first encounter with the magick of Lestat.)

This world is, and has allways been, ruled by chaos.

Many followers of Order believe it to be the ekvivalent

of Evil. But the word "evil" should never exist, because

it is an empty description. If someone came and told you

that "evil", lust, corruption, egoism, chaos, and Darkness

where infact the same: what would you answer him?

 

They are not the same.

 

- "evil" is an description the Jewish priests, and later the Christian Church invented, to mark its enemies as dangerouse and untrustworthy. Lies, I tell you!

 

- lust is not a definite negative word. One can feel lust for both constructive and destructive things. And neither are "evil".

 

- corruption is a truly negative word. But what if corruption where destructive in the laws of recreation? Indeed, it is only a negative thing when being ordered, not when being under chaotic influens.

 

- egoism might be the lone word that best describes the consept of "evil". But egoism is never pure "evil". Only organized, ordered, Lawfull egoism is negative, it destroys for its own pleasure and denies recreation.

 

- chaos.  A word that from the very beginning has been the counterpart of Order. No doubt, followers of Order denies its importance, and tries to defy its rigthfull position in the wheel of life, its role as being both utterly destructive and utterly recreationable. Chaos is inspiration, where Order is boredom and repetition without difference. Neith of these two originally powers are more mighty than the other, yet both are never ballanced due to the actions of fanatics of order.

 

- Darkness. It was Before, it shall surely be in the End. Darkness is symbol of Chaos, of utter random before Order works its path. Darkness is nothing to be afraid of, neither can one trust it to be anything but  truly chaotic. 

 

 

So tell the followers of Order to stop their fanatical obeidance of Ignarant devellopemen. Lest they stop this ignorant defiance of the Ballance, this World shalt surely fall victim of Disballance, and Order will destroy the recreation, and when the last wave lays silent, we become 0.

 

So, I ask thee:

 

What is above sanity, across light, before creation and stands responsible of Life?

 

Insanity, Darkness, Disorder; Chaos!

 

Instability is never a blessing, neither are stability.

This is the time all shall seek justice by their own futility. This is where all shall seek their doom by the blades they crossed to protect against themselves. These are the words that meet me when I discover my own. This is where you should have stood, if you understood.

 

The ways of life is not meant to be questioned, because the answers are not to be made. Nonetheless, these answers pay heed to the greatest of all truths:

 

Even life, 

being created the moment you spot it, 

to avoid being questioned,

have the weakness of lacking cause.

 

Learn from theese words,

because it is here I stand.

 

And know by this, that ell who says they can tell you the truth of life, are all liers. Becose life is a question without answer, an unexisting Paradigm, a zero.

 

Existence is an Illusion.

And it pleases me.

Today I am fine.

I guess

on edge of the cliff I stand

Beneath: Nothing. Behind: the World.

"only in the act itself, is the most answers hidden"

"but you have to be standing on the outside to understand it"

And thus I observe ...

 

---------------------------

 

I blant Skygger
her finner jeg ro

Hos hvilende Ravner
her finner jeg forståelse

Ved den tause Klippe
finner den mest livlige samtale sted
.

Hva er en Tanke,
enn pur frigitt sjel?

Kun tåper benytter muskler mot muskler.
Den kyndige feller fiender uten krefter.

Hvordan er vel et tre vokst opp,
om foruten vann og jord det hadde vært?
.

Hvorenn jeg snur meg:
Uvitenhet!

(This document was rediscovered 28. Mai in when I looked through some old notebooks. The brilliance of the prophecy still scares me a little)

Filaments of old shall be Broken.

Ancient Heroes brutally slain.

Great hosts shall vage war upon each other.

Battle shall end with the utter destruction.

None of old tides shall survive.

Only the mad ones tells the truth.

Of rumbling earth, of scorshed forests, new Kingdoms shall rice.

Reality lays within yourself, everything is an illusion.

When silence comes, please bring me to rest.

Be not scared, madness comes as part of change.

Never believe what they tell you.

Be true to yourself, lest treason shall be your doom.

None shall breath alive at dawn, none shall watch the beauty of the sunset.

Believe the words of insane men.

If not, truth shall slay you in the darkness of those unknowing.

               The Dark Prophet 2003