Todeskönig
New Member
The Dark King
I won't forget, no, not this time.
Posts: 10
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Post by Todeskönig on Jun 19, 2007 10:59:37 GMT -5
A dismal universal hiss, the sound of public scorn. The brush that sweeps across the spectral fields, this landscape is not without a sense of epic wonder. A vast scale that places this sprawling underworld, into a realm of frames. With a storm fading into the distance, floating without directions over this smoldering landscape. Caught in a moment of transformation, these shades of anatomic malignant nature, approached on another in an unpleasant way. Frozen in the act of speech, desperate to express its state. Created in a shape to accommodate a wide variety of demonic forms. The realm of the benighted aristocracy of evil most pure.
This is where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep. Emerged from the depths of the earth gasps, it rages against mankind, to annihilate the earth and worse. It spills the blood like rain, the beauty of death it represents. Devouring the flesh with a razorblade smile. Genes would still blindly carry on a smoldering ember of hell. Limned with gold leaf, the scarlet brush that swept all traces of time, place and pattern.
A proud knight returns home, from heaven to heaven on a self-made bridge. From the endless battle against the pries of light and now he shall rest, or so he thinks. See into the inner of the mountain breeze. Where its life has sought shelter for a sun, which in end will go dark with the eternal night. And prevent our world from blooming and growing.
See the satire of the eye, where remains of good are chased away. And is blown away in an open grave until the last light has been put out. With powerful blows to the light, the knights rejoice in a dark mist. High as the sky, wandering over his own star, glaring at a world covered with ice.
Over innumerable fallen soldiers, who sowed the growing seed of life. He wanders away from the last war. The mighty prince, the bloody thorn. Todeskinig had been wandering for miles and now after a many a day he found his resting place. Soon enough exhaustion had caught up with him, his knees quivered and bowed. Soon enough he collapsed at the creeks edge, his nape outstretched to the edge his nares catching scent of it but his body wouldn't budge.
Soon enough sleep had overcome him, and by the time he had awoken, he had awoken to a scarlet sunset, the thresholds to night play. And a sinful oath was to be sworn; a beckoning bloodlust among the seekers, a tyrannical hunger yearns. Gathering in flames and fires; Devil's son had danced, Scourged in filth obscene and lewd, longing to dark desires. The nocturnal beast rests for a moment. In an evil despotic shape, expectant watching gracelessly. Before demanding the lyrics to be slain. "Where is that I must search to find my place, my rightful home. My soldiers.”
Todeskinig's body neither quivered at the worlds movements, nor did he pay it any mind except lyrically. He remained there, body lifeless except for the falls of his chest with every breath. He rolled his chin along the damp soil that followed forth from the banks. His flanks heaved as he sighed, his body rocked side to side for a moment as he finally got himself up to his belly. His nape still lay out before him…Moments had passed and time seemed endless.
”Darkness... My precious companion”, even thou cant see his face
Salvation turned to bleed despair, compassion fled...Sadistic delight flowed, like Hell burned brighter existence woven into darkness, prudence did fall...In Satan's beauty, life was found...
A flow of orgasmic fire, swept through the beasts body. He enthroned darkness triumphant, with the searing trident of the Inferno. He gazed towards the Heavens, as you might catch a glimpse of him... for his hide alone shown as bright as the red moon that plagued him. " This world shouldn’t take pity in me." He waited though this time, in short for reply from something. And again with a heavy blow sleep had descended to his body once more.
Daylight has finally reached its peak, as day strikes into the sky. Far away in the bright glimpsing moonlight, sickening souls cry out in pain. Whispering voices summoning screams, waiting for Satan to bless their sins. Black hearted angels fallen from grace, possessed by the search for utter darkness. Todeskinig looked to the sun, it’s words falling to deaf ears. Already it had begun to bore him, though, he needed it.
It was to lead him through his old homeland, and help him to search for those that claim themselves to be his followers. He was here to bring hell back to his brother, he’s paying this time. Paying with bloodshed again, perhaps with the blood of his young son? Braveheart is it? Yes, he too shall pay for d.amning this world with light heartedness and purity.
Staggering onto hefty back legs, the stallion reared. Throwing his hooves around like a macabre ballet. His ears were pinned and the sun had reflected with a hint of blood off his hide, showing bright and vibrant colors. Soon enough he let loose a battle cry. Tempting any baron that wished to fool with such a beast, a puppet of the Devil.
The charlatans and deceivers walk the line in prejudice. The narrow slits the veins in search for the crown. Profound impatience makes the blind struggle in stupidity. The paradox of the daily prayer, diffidence is Confuter. Phenomena of ironies, cast the litany aside. How intelligible, blessed be the forgetful. Holding his banner high, unrestrained. Slowly abandoning the surface in contempt, he lept into a canter, his legs fueled by the will of the devil. He sought life, and life he would find. Still in costumes to please the ways of living.
Witnessing the details of defilement, intoxicating. Make sure to be pleased with the ways of your death. For in days of reckoning and when the twilight torn is ticking .Elysium is halfway and as an answer to the plea. You're destined to yield fragments of Hell in return.
He arrived unnoticed with the perfect conscience. With the strength of the spiritual eye. Spirits of the token unchained and free. Recover from the philanthropic macabre frenzy. The pale dove grins, black at heart ready to flee. Demon to some, angel to others. The nocturnal beast appears. In an evil despotic shape, expectant watching gracelessly. Before demanding the very posers that called themselves wicked. "Come forth Soilders, let's begin!" In it's truth Todeskonig was indeed alot like Satan, deep and sadistic. And with a foul prance of pale daggers, he was there before them. Though within time he became the swarm, indeed a pitiful imitation. To the verge of a quiet glance, an oracle without eyes. He stood beside no one, he alone mocked the color of death, a deep onyx though he was tainted with white umongst his belly and face. His banner was raised unrestrained, a solider.
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Post by wowposter on Nov 14, 2008 1:04:10 GMT -5
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