Unseen, yet practicable.
Where is your answer?
Where is your question?
Based on truth or lies?
Why should it be either?
At beckon call...
Not for those who judge...
What they cannot comprehend.
Source of knowledge, too vast for words.
To concentrate your mind.
Of no substance, yet food for thought,
And entrance to your soul.
It is both life and death.
It is both death and life.
Fear to some existence to others.
In the air you breathe, yet in your mind surreal.
Liars are those who claim to know,
In their words they say nothing,
For words cannot describe it.
It is knowledge and yet confusion.
See all you can,
And look beyond and beyond and beyond.
Look through the confusion to find knowledge,
Look through the knowledge to find confusion.
At all times question everything.
Inside and around I see misery, suffering.
A new level of depth for my depression.
Thought I could only climb from now.
Unable to see below its depths.
Got used to it so that it wasn't as bad.
Now on my dark ledge I am falling further,
Where are my friends? Someone grasp me.
But no one reaches for I have nothing left to give them.
My use for them is gone and so is their respect for me.
Hitting a deeper level I crash hard.
My anger screams, sorrow and hate contorting together,
In a fit my temper explodes, tearing my hair, punching my face,
Ripping my skin to release it from within.
Screams of sorrow increasing my hate,
Sentences flash through my mind of all that they said,
Of those I regard that hurt me.
Emptying my soul, devouring my will.
I'm alone and always will be.
I've known no one who hasn't hurt me - and often with intent.
I walk through crowded streets of faceless people,
Their whispers haunting me...
Trapped in a void with myself who's not me.
My knowledge and power are all that I own.
My compassion is destroyed, my hate free to explode.
Now I will always destroy those who try to hurt me.
"He that is slow to believe anything and everything is of
great understanding, for belief in one false principle is
the beginning of all unwisdom."
Followers of the right-hand path,
Looking to God for comfort.
Enslaved by his command,
Controlled by priests and bishops.
Conceited are the followers who preach unto others,
Not to follow is to burn in Hell.
Spreading lies about Satanism, to enslave the minds of sinners.
Propaganda spread - mass control.
Pay to repent - money for their pleasure.
Brainwashing the weak in mind.
If God is good, why should you fear him?
All they want is the feeling of power,
Of having others follow their morals.
All they bring is pain and fear to the ones who are unsure.
Kill these enslavers.
They only want to rule and judge you to satisfy their narrow minds.
Satanism is a way of life,
It is to do whatever will please you.
There are no commandments just follow you instincts,
Never bow down to the lambs of God.
Question the why and wherefore of their commandments.
Why should they be true?
Man's instincts go against self-denial.
Instincts of indulgence and self-preservation should come through.
"There is no heaven of glory bright and no hell where sinners roast.
Here and now is our day of torment. Here and now is our day of joy."
(Quotes taken from "The Satanic Bible" - Anton Szandor LaVey)
I see them coming at me all the time,
Lashing out, killing me over and over again.
And I laugh for I enjoy all the deaths that I receive,
The pain and destruction of my flesh,
Killing me over and over again.
The blackness still comes, forever killing me.
I rock back and forth, staring through.
The blackness which slices through,
My scarred and dead flesh, yet still I die as I see my skin shred.
Dead again and still I stare at the blackness which is still there.
Have they not yet reached the core, of my flesh so battered and torn?
Maybe I have no core, maybe inside there's nothing.
If so what do I die for?
Staring, watching, willing, killing,
Seeing, dreaming, screaming, screaming,
Killing, killing, killing, killing...
Willing, filling what wasn't there, emptiness my despair.
Stuck, unable to move off my chair,
Rocking back and forth, with no eyes, yet still I stare.
At the blackness which is always there.
Throughout our childhood, we live in fear.
Of all that we hear, never-ending tears...
Ignorance so absolute, within their minds so small.
Into the depths of their shadows we fall.
To live and breathe in sadness, pain and agony.
Their mendacious emotions, race through me,
Feeling love and hate for someone untrue.
My cauldron of life, my feelings subdue.
I am still a child...
Ill prepared guardians take care of our existence.
Without thought to their actions of consequence.
The light of our eyes died while we were conceived.
By the whores and sluts, our mothers, their depravity unconcealed.
Souls are left in a desolate place.
Forever rotting, stagnant within the foul waste.
But their corruption is kept, for it has work to do.
Prevaricating young minds, so that they cannot see through.
The lies of society, you're a puppet to perform.
While they laugh with pleasure, as you try to conform.
Why? Question why! Doubt is your only friend!
I have such hatred for these creatures of lies.
Their simple actuality is enough for me to despise.
Am I right to judge their insignificance?
Yes! So are you, those without indifference.
For Satan's mind is vast among those who deceive.
And on those he feeds, those who try to believe.
With their moral fairy tales, and scriptures so frail.
To myself and to Satan, you can hear my hail.
"Zodacare od Zodameranu! Odo cicale Qaa! Zodoreje, lape zodiredo
Noco Mada, Hoathahe Saitan!"
(Quotes taken from "The Satanic Bible" - Anton Szandor LaVey)
Society and religion teach us to love one another,
To follow the frameworks,
That filled their empty lives - empty minds.
The pressure I feel,
Is fucking unreal.
Why can't they see my inability to love?
Why can't they open their eyes?
All they see is what they want to see.
They see their vision of me; it's not me!
How can I love others when I can't love myself?
The pain I've felt has destroyed the love in me.
My frustration increases into a silent scream.
Where is the relief? When can I be free?
I have tried to love but it can never be.
Hate is all I can ever feel.
To dwell on death is love for me...
They look through their rose-coloured glasses,
At the beauty of the world.
They're so blind and fucking ignorant,
That love's all they see.
Any sorrow they come across never cuts deep,
Because real pain is what ignorance can't feel.
It just runs shallow through their pretentious world.
Never looking into themselves,
They adopt the feelings of somebody else.
Never stopping to think who they are,
Or what life is,
They become what society expects them to be.
I stare back at these people who stare at me.
They laugh through their vanity, so ignorant,
They can't begin to realise that my mind is free.
My hateful wisdom destroys them, relieving my pain.
For their souls will be banished to forever live in ignorance.
Those who laugh at philosophies they know nothing of
Are those who mostly disgust me.
And I shall be avenged, through the power of Satan anarchy.
Satanism isn't fantasy; it is based on the philosophies of life,
Comparable to man's basic instincts.
Now laugh if you please.
There is no such thing as nothing...