THYRANE - The Spirit Of Rebellion
Insidious Dream Of Inhuman Fear
Carrion the altar, in the temple of reformer.
Guts of offering... Satan has worshipped in order.
Ancient way to raise the force of evil,
goddamned desecration to ecoke the Devil.
Beware the serpents... in the shadow of thy dreams,
they are set io motion, to salute their master in devotion.
In the house of torment, in the swing of death,
doze the reflection of embodiment of Seth.
The extremist element of hell... is the impulse of sulphur smell,
praise the snake - beat your fear.
Step forward - embrace the scales,
compose the rhyme with bewitching strains.
Enter the blackened garden - bleed for the oldest reptile,
there is no light,
It shall give you the eyes of delirium.
Penetrate the mysteries - sing for the flames,
baptize your bame with the agony of sacrificial lust.
Carrion the altar is you from thy dreams.
You're a chronic bastard, yet a lamb of god.
In the house of torment, in the coffin of your death,
sleeps thy body without christraping flesh.
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Soulless And Broken
You, beacon of sanctimonious righteousness,
consolation prize for vulnerable souls.
Primordial vengeance you shall feel, at the end of your days.
The only warmth will be hellfire's sweet blaze.
We'll pull you to insane shadows, beyond the wall of sleep.
We'll decorate your soul and spirit,
by the satanic torment against the lamenting sheep.
In the deepest caverns within mind,
dwells the subliminal need to convert the sheeps.
Deprivation of emotion, with knife, conversion leading to suicide.
It's raining blood in heaven on the day of doom,
scent of innocence turns to reek of putrefaction.
Since the day when virgin cunt defocated the icon of weakness,
has the lands been as verminous grave.
Soulless and broken by profane agony.
Struggling and yielding before insanity.
Soulless and broken by profane agony.
Sculptures in flesh, terrorized mind and soul filled with fathomless horror.
This is your destiny, feel the fucking pain now!
Close the gates for tomorrow, triumphant are we who oppose.
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Chaotic Profane Phenomena
It's time to raise and exorcise the hater of jesus christ.
To punish, to rape, to demolish, there has begun extreme aggression,
to fuck, to breed, to extol the icon of destruction.
Meet thy perdition at the grave of god,
as you're imagination and spoiled freak of nature.
Meet my perdition and you will kneel for pleasures,
I will show you eternities as Satan revel in me.
Spirit of rebellion - blaspheme and curse, desire to fight - raise thy sword.
The new age of Hades - not a year of grace.
The infernal wolf is free - unchained are thee.
Chaos rules - the whores of hell are here.
Hell on earth - the trinity has falllen apart.
Paradise lost - the spirit turned to flesh.
Chaotic Profane Phenomena - no more or less.
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Crushing Defeat Of The Triune Godhead
I am the broken heart of god,
non-desirable child in the masquerade of holy fuck.
Proclaimer of the grimmest infernal ontogeny,
so take a step forward into my bacchanal feast,
'cos now I'm your god.
I am... embodiment of Satan,
incarnation of pain, earthly unholiest power.
Antidote against the religious dirt,
and the fix in the veins of divinity.
I am.. the way.. the saviour.. all that you need for... a stone on your grave.
Satanic praise-extreme way become inured
to fell the hellfire in it's rebellion desire.
There's nothing to stop the passion for Devil
and for the carnal sacriledge,
which give birth to your child.
I didn't need you to baptize or pray,
for me you were dead forever...
you are dead forever.
Do you realize my reality, in it's blasphemy... pagan cruelty.
When I look down on you, you fucking fuck, I feel sick about your way,
how you sold your soul in overprice... for nothing.
__________
Thy World Inverted
The scissors of sinful lust clip the angelic wings,
all the grievance of the past now culminates.
Rejected is the rotten fruit in the heavenly gardens,
and praised are the names of the fallen ones.
Let your slaves come to me and I shall teach them impurity.
Thy world decorated with chaos, what a pleasant sight that is.
Behold the arrival of beasts and pestilence.
The rope tightens around thy necks.
A new sun in summoned to rise,
to provide warmth in which to rot.
Like souls swept in emotional intoxication,
they all seek the absence of flesh.
(then so be it...)
Cloaked with disease and dismay,
together with the last rays of day,
thou shalt fade away.
A fulfilled divination, this is our paradise.
Thy world inverted, spiritual domination.
Thy kingdom come... perverted!
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Words Of The Prophet
I read the signs from the eyes of the dead,
and saw the seed of still-born tomorrow.
I heard the future from the realms of hell,
the symphonies burdened with sorrow.
There would be a Messiah,
not quite the saviour they promised you.
In Him the sensations of pain arise,
He is the redeemer, the devourer of light.
From the fear inside you would born disorder,
spreading like rats upon ruins (like despair among angels)
bringing forth the "Apocalypse" and all it holds inside.
The true gift from the kingdoms beyond.
There would be a messiah,
not quite the saviour they promised you.
In Him all nightmares resite.
He is the redeemer, the devourer of fucking light...
...And there would be legions triumphant!
Bloodstained hands speaking of their devotion.
Thousand times thousand wings would whip the air.
Inbred bastards of jehovah...!
No need to fear the abyss, no need to shed a tear,
not a single soul would be sent to hell...
...For Hell is what we'd have here!
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Blindfolded
Inconsistent ideals tend to choke on their vanity,
god-given laws to corrupt our sanity.
Fuck your values, and fuck your salvation,
I laugh at inri and cherish temptation.
In the evershadowed corners of my soul,
dwells the esoteric strength of mine.
For the glory of the Beast,
I forever raise the chalice of wine.
You may be many in numbers but you are weak in spirit,
deliverance through obedient submission?
Never have I trusted your words,
your patterns are destined to fall apart.
I hereby blindfold my self from your illusions.
The "truths" that you forced down my throat, I'll bleed all over you.
The hand that was promised to feed me, has always tried to strike me down.
I've bit that hand with the teeth of Blasphemy,
and blace a trail through constructions of christianity.
Blindfolded I am,
yet never have I seen deeper into your weak souls.
Cursed be thee, the celestial flock.