In Some Quiet Corner.

 

Always tucked away in some quiet corner of life.

Going to Borth in Mid Wales.

It is one of the best ways in my life, to relax.

Far away from bad vibes of the past.

Away from those evil faces I am expected to remember.

But they do not want to know me.

 

Nobody that I have difficulty remembering from long ago.  It always causes me great annoyance.  To strive for a relationship, far too complicated.  Falling in love with humans has a terrible setback.  They confuse me, by being overdramaticly unsure.  It's not me that's at fault here.  This structure that has been built up on a car park.  It is much more predictable, than any human being could ever be. 

If I seek a sanctuary, that is peaceful.  I should be able to go to places.  As long as there are no memories of past tenses, that cause bad vibes or feelings.  Life should be much greater without panic attacks, or uncertain emotions that I cannot deal with.   It all depends on how well I adapt to other beings.  Meeting strangers at a fairground, is like meeting someone that remains transparent at whether you go on the rides or not.  It doesn't matter to the fairground workers, if you do or not go on the rides.  They don't mind you standing around, just watching the wheels of time pass by.

The World Is Now Too Corrupt For Forgiveness.

Crime now festers on almost every street corner.  The Tories are taking over the world again.  Greed is for the selective few.  And corrupt people are constantly making accusations against dead people.  All because they want a slice of the cherry pie.  The world has become too corrupt for forgiveness, by any supernatural intervension.  This means otherworldly war now.  The dead can no longer lay resting, and waiting for judgement day.  The planet must change. Or be changed by an invisible force, from beyond the stars.  They will come not to save.  But to teach us all a vital lesson.

Tiredness Without Sunlight.

Well, those dark Winter nights are once again creeping up on us all.  Some of us will get very tired easily.  Then the others that are socially accepted won't.  Maybe its all to do with M.E.  Just think of those poor buggers in countries, that hardly have any sunlight at all.  Places like The Artic Circle and The South Pole.  Even The North Pole has its fair share of sunlessness.  But there are also other advantages, of not having any sunlight.  Goths and Vampire Lovers will end up with pure white/pale skin.  And a Pale complexion as well.  Let's hope that Winter teaches to attune our bodies, to the ravages of the cold bleakness of reality.

NEKRO-NOMIKA

 

METAPHYSICAL RETRIBUTIONS.  AND THE INDIVIDUAL/INVISIBLE SHALL INHERIT THE BLACK MIRRORED MOON.  AND THE UNEARTHLY SHALL SEE THE VAST VIOLET TWILIGHTS OF JUPITER.  THE CHILDREN OF THE BLACK MIRRORED MOON SHALL BECOME THE CHILDREN OF UNIVERSAL CONSCIOUSNESS. 

 

ASTRAL-GUARDIAN BEINGS FROM DARK ATMOSPHERES OF PLATONIKOSA.  ASPERGIKA AUTISTIKA.  WHERE MURKY DARK GREEN MISTS SUFFOCATE GRAVEYARDS.  THE MURMURING AND SHATTERING GLASS OF INFINITY THAT SHRIEKS.  THE VIOLENT FURY OF BANSHEES FROM OUTERSPACE. 

 

A DREARY PIANO OF OBSCURED SUPERNATURAL RESTITUTION.  RETROGRADING IN THE DARK ASPECTS OF RETROSPECTIVE CHAOTIC 1982.  FLOATING ISOTOPES AND ORBS OF VIOLET IN A COLD ROOM.  DARK MATTER BRINGING THE REVELRY OF MYSTICISM.  BRINGING THE BLACK FIRES OF HELL AND FURY.  EXCOMMUNICATED MORTALS AND OPPRESSORS EVERYWHERE.

 

LOOK AT THE CRYSTAL COSMIC SHIPS.  WE DEFINE WHAT WE WANT TO BE.  WE ARE TRANSLUCENT CREATURES FROM OTHERWORLDS.  DELTA WING ALPHA.  OUR DARK PLANETS REVOLVE THROUGH CASCADING DOORWAYS.  THE PORTALS OF LOST MOMENTS.  OUR YESTERDAYS THAT SLIPPED OUT OF SIGHT, AND OUT OF MIND.  WE ARE THE GHOSTS THAT RAVAGE THE EARTH.  THE FURIES ARE OUR PROTECTORS.  WE SILHOUETTE OUR OWN DESIRES.

Low Amounts

 

Low amounts of light becomes the forgotten reality, that society have lost touch with.  Little amounts of light becomes our lonely sun.  As we secretly bask in the midnight glow of soundless states.  Convoking The Furies from blackest skies.  Convulsions call all hands to lead the way.  The outcasts are coming to renew the world.

 

Sir Markus Furiae.

DESERTED LANDSCAPES

 

Vast deserted landscapes of nothingness.

Islands of decaying monuments.

Shattered windows of old buildings.

Cities that were bombed long ago.

Tall structures without glass or frames.

Forgotten industrial complexes of yesterday.

Rusty and oxidized brick work buildings.

Silent cemeteries without mortal contact.

Where war ravaged the cold and isolated.

Now there are fallen and decaying graves.

And many empty tombs of the dead.

 

Guns and weapons corroded by rain.

The acidic deadly poison of silence.

It has made its mark on almost everything.

Wild cats and dogs scavenge for food.

In the empty streets of nothingness.

Even the shops of yesterday are closed.

Cars and lorries all left abandoned.

This is the apocalypse of isolation.

The daylight has too much fallout.

Its only safe to go out at night now.

Or stay in the underground networks.

 

Sir Markus Furiae. 



A CALL TO THE DARK ONES

 

Almighty Furies swirl around me.  Constantly anti-clockwise.  One way black karma divine.  Energies of misty dark chaos.  Bring your violet forces inside of me.  For cause and effect nocturnia.  Silhouettes of retributions unseen.  Curse all mine own enemies.  Burn the offerings of rotten blood.  So rotten, as a token and a sacrifice.  Make earthquakes appear and disappear violently.  Until glass shatters and screams furiously.  The banshees call tonight.  Ringing their silent doom bells.  Just like Cassandra The Prophetess.  The dark ones have spoken without voice or sound.  The world plunged into severe curses.  Flood the lands of malice with fear and terror.  Society to be doomed forever.  As if swallowed by vast oceans of the unseen.  By seven Levianthens of darkness.

 

Sir Markus Furiae.