What little is left?
Mood:  rushed
Topic: Horror
My blood drips slowly unto
the polished black marble
floor, veins release anguish
from within. No one is there,
no one cares. Not one turns
around to see me fall from
the cross. My heart fits
inside a rusted thimble and
this charred soul is barren like
a moon. Emotions are icy as
a haunting jury condemns me to
eternal life, daggers pierce my
armor as the day refuse my plea
for slumber.

My bones lay in a pile next
to the furnace in a crematorium.
Irritated by the noise of this sorrow,
a foul mood swallows my tranquility.
Watching the pain devour the omen
that was sent to me from the noose
of humanity has left me numb. This
haziness is the question that kills
the answer to my existence.
Running down the hall, I face
the reality of extinction. Death
dreams erase the hope in this
rage I have. Inflicting wounds on
this temple I feel enticed by
the pleasure to repeat this
procedure.

The Calling
Mood:  mischievious
Topic: Darkness
The Calling
by: Wolffe



To this home, I bow
before the throne of the
forgotten Gods. Whispering
horrors in my mind as the shards
of death remain underneath
my skin, stains of anger
splotch the walls of my
room. Doors to unnamed
realms are ajar and pull
unaware trespassers to
their fate. Arrogance is the
soup of the day as angels
are roasted over the flames
of failure, sinister laughter
greets and taunts the forces
of good.

Dungeons of evil and sadomasochism
torture are mine to cherish, alone I
worship in the chapel of
suicidal demons. Hatred,
the color of black crimson
is the color of my eyes, the
only love I feel is when I dominate
these satanists as the chains
of hell rip them apart. Drowning
in the greed water, the powerful
of this world sacrifices their children
to me. This cold steel chamber
is silent as I levitate in meditation
before I bring gifts to you.

From the fall of the mourning sun
to the last inch of the grave,
my dark power sends all
of the Christians to their knees in
a weeping prayer. Walking among
the races of this world,
facing the pride of man as he
dies in vain for causes of
my choice. Bones lie in wait
for the life that will never come
as horror swings the ax to behead
the crown. Rebellions and crusades
are as old as me, fruitless words
are preached to the wailing of the
dead. Faith is a disease that burns
the soul as man recognizes his
futility.

Gone are the days of heaven as
Christians burn on the marble cross.
Deliverance to my hands are their
souls, torture and slavery warps my
mind as I see the clock melt underneath
my feet. Nightmares are born from my
soul for you to feed upon, this blood
of mine holds the truth for you to drink.
Misery and pain are the promises
from the Gods, align yourself with
me and taste the rewards of the
desire. Turn away from me and
feel the wrath like the rest of
humanity that lies in my chamber
of damnation.

Under Construction part 2
Mood:  on fire
Now Playing: Under construction
Pics.

Sorry, just started this. will add more later. .This site will feature different work than what I have posted. thanks. Wolffemy professional port. Check this site out. this is where I call home for now. Anyways... This is coming along slowly but surely. Feel free to drop comments and post your links as well. Wolffe