Visions of a Journey
By Ryan of the North
Pale the eyes of a darker existence,
Entrenched in blackest experience,
Radiate through a deadly persistence,
Demanding fury from hardened patience,
Nominate the violated to retaliate,
Banishment to rot in place,
Sustained punishment perpetuates,
Loss of control exterminates,
Infection comes to the open wound,
For Hades to lull the soul to swoon,
Fade into the absolute,
Devoured in jaws that bare no tooth,
Red strings pulled by claws,
Terrified by the faces in the maw,
Attention to the curtain draw,
Answer now the deeper call,
Immolate the demon’s hand,
Emanate from a hidden plan,
Anticipate the sinking sands,
Desolated in forbidden lands,
Jab the blade into the clay,
Twisted scales saw through the gates,
Mischievous clouds shall roll and play,
Devoid of love and even hate,
Washed a shore by bloody waves,
Foam exits the gapping caves,
Hollow screams and laughter swayed,
Insanity has taken over thy name,
Deliver stars to empty cells,
Locked away on dusty shelves,
Silenced by visions of mighty Hell,
Annihilate the parasitic swell,
Rectify the guilty pleasures,
Perseverance is triumph measured,
Find the flames that burn at center,
Blackened fire sought on cursed adventures…
A Pact with Belphegor
By Ryan of the NorthAll hail the great lord of Moab,
Prince of the dawning Black Sun,
The radiant palace of invention,
I feel you writhing deep within,
You disruptor of the righteous workings,I can bring riches beyond limit,
Without experiencing painful adversity,
If thou placeth total faith in me,
Treasure will find itself in your hands,I know your guise Baal-of-Peor,
One who led astray Moses’ faithful,
Grand inventor of dark machinations,
I seek ingenious discoveries within,The fruit beyond the shell of lethargy,
This key unlocks the laboratory doors,
The deep underworld of inspiration,
Your sloth is my nutrients in this world,
Feed me and I will map the way in,To you my idleness is sacrificed,
I pour the blood of sludge into thy mouth,
My vow is to brave the torture of progression,
The change of a rock into liquid,
I will break out of this idle husk,I am Belphegor of Pandemonium,
Hail Lord Belphegor!
I vow to map the pathway into Hell’s laboratory,
Pass the gate of corpses that failed my test,
Go now and be thou prosperous,
But take heed this warning well,
Fail and give into idle ways of staleness,
And I will take what is owed in full out of thy soul,
You will rot from the deep within,
And I will afflict you with living death,
Hymn of the Sect of the Horned God
By Ryan of the North
*Special thanks to Thomas LeRoy, Lisa Corrine, Jake Block,
The Dark F00l, and Dimitri Hellemond for their linguistic
contributions
Here is the home of the wretched,
Monsters mingling with devils in revelry,
Four horsemen sing upon pillars of power,
Satyrs and nymphs dance in the hidden grove,
The spiritual realm devoid of all nonsense,
Darkness reveals the demands of the path,
A sinister alchemy is taught and undertaken:
To search the Earth for hidden pathways,
To scour the air for a divine point of view,
To steal the fires from the Olympian alter,
To bathe in the waters of abysmal fountains,
To sit proudly upon the throne of destruction,
The power of the goddesses returned to glory,
Birthing horns and hooves in ecstatic melodies,
With weapons of the gods shall the bindings break,
Shattering the satanic aeons with a vengeance,
Unique in perspective with intellectual sincerity,
The authentic gravitas of spiritual independence,
Here is where the left hand rises high in defiance!
Abysmal Ocean
Created with Microsoft Fresh Paint by Ryan of the North
Slish, slosh, rock and sway,
Rolling waters shove the vessel,
On moon lit storm the waters rage,
On starless day they boil and steam,
Woe to the captian on abysmal waters,
Howl and whistle, push and pull,
Unhindered winds tip the sails,
With pelting rain upon an angle,
With salty mists that sting the eyes,
Woe to the captian on abysmal seas,
Hazey lights and flashing clouds,
Roaring landless realm unbound,
Where the helm directs not,
Where compass spins round and round,
Woe to the captian on abysmal oceans,
Flicker, splash, smash and bash,
Scaley creatures assault the boards,
None dare smell the haunted haul,
None dare to taste the mold boards,
Woe to the captians on rotting vessels,
Waves and winds, monsters, horror,
Unknown below the depth of floor,
No anchor has tough the deepest,
No eye has seen the darkest below,
Woe to the captian of greatest unknown,
Sneak, slip, spying and waiting,
Amphibious shadow has come abord,
To stalk the helm and look-out’s post,
To eat the blind as they be sleeping,
Woe to the captian on shoreless oceans…
The Orders of The Sect of the Horned God
