Blasphemer de Darkthrone

In the quest for shudders i was as the absence
melted in my hand
as clear as my gleaming sorrow
A spectral fascination
for irony to serve
are the glorious those who triumph
in a kingdom of eternity?
...a castle of sand
whose roof has sheltered my
i sense "the absence of triumph and lust
abruptly rising to cover the glory in sand"
A whore gave birth to the flies
...who flew away with my beauty
a virgin gave birth to my masks
I simulate the absence
"to enter a kingdom of
flesh - a ghastly worn shadow
a fiery picture of poet in hel"
Forlorn i was as poets should be
i am as chosen as the weaver himself.