She was the beauty in scarlet hair
Dust of roses blushed her cheek
Juice of pomegranate watered her lips
Emerald eyes made him weak
His heart was smitten with desire
Lusty grapes crowned his thirst
Fiery glow filled his chamber
She loved til’ virtue burst
Devoured by the soil of profanity
Luster of pearls and mind was drained
Waves of fire cursed the end
Serpent in disguise and spirit gained
© 2012 Varja Linnea Askeland all rights reserved
From midnight hour, howl be heard
Ye have come, death and his bride
Reeking lusts of sodomized wounds
Thou art the seducer by my side
As they saw, I could not see
Fatal sun, destruction beam
Roaring hunger into oblivion
Decieving light, ne’er as it seem
From midnight hour, hollow be free
Ye who seized the rain, pretend to cry
Shrieking souls of eternal fall
Thou art death in its grievous eye
As they felt, I could not feel
Ye who harvest the grain, pretend to run
Swooning prey into mirage
As they lov’d, I loved none
© 2012 Varja Linnea Askeland all rights reserved
Ursprungligen från en dikt jag skrev 2009, med originaltitel — “Full moon”,
men det finns inte så mycket av den gamla dikten kvar i denna jag skrev idag.
När jag skrev denna dikten lyssnade jag på, och blev inspirerad av:
“Funeral in Carpathia” av Cradle of Filth, från albumet Midnight in the Labyrinth
O’er silver lake dwells an angel in mud
The serpent craved thee alone to drain
Thou art ne’er free from thine own blood
Third circle of hell wilt thou gain
Hands are cold and dying
Drawing down the venom of dismiss
Unearthly mother ne’er ease the crying
Defile thy grace with deceiving kiss
Shrieking souls devoured and caught
From the deepest core of plea
Woe unto thee for the war thou forgot
And silver becomes thee.
© 2012 Varja Linnea Askeland all rights reserved
När jag skrev denna dikten lyssnade jag på, och blev inspirerad av:
“The Rape and Ruin of Angels” av Cradle of Filth, från albumet Midnight in the Labyrinth
For thou my heart is dark
Forbidden dreams of pagan dance
Before the standing stones
Reveal the ritual of trance
For thou my heart is lure
Enticing pearls of moonlight
Before the infernal swine
Thrill, kill the sinful rite
For thou my heart is strong
Cradle cry and grave mourn
Before the anguished reflection
Reality to all is born
© 2012 Varja Linnea Askeland all rights reserved
När jag skrev denna dikten lyssnade jag på, och blev inspirerad av:
“Summer dying fast” av Cradle of Filth, från albumet Midnight in the Labyrinth.
What happened in the place of vicious laughter?
A blasphemy lingers in despair
Empty glasses, empty faces
I shall never gasp for air
What happened in the souls of mankind?
A solid rage awoke within
Eyes are blind, all are monsters
I shall never relate to my skin
What happened in the act of God?
A plague devoured all of humanity
Madness was real, bad became worse
I shall never return into this insanity
What happened to the sense of sanctuary?
A love more sound than a mothers embrace
Mortified to the end, victimized by truth
I shall never forget his honest face
© 2012 Varja Linnea Askeland all rights reserved
Denna dikt specialskrev jag för serieromanen ‘The suffering kind’
av Hanna Beatrice Norgren
I see the sky
Sleeping calm in the night
The stars are blinding
Lurking shades of light
I’m screaming helpless
Hope you hear my call
I’ve reached the end
Pray you catch my fall
I feel nothing
Only tears on my skin
Cold as stone
Choke to death my sin
Even though my heart is numb
I’m crying anyway
The light is gone
There will be no day
Even though we share a heart
I surrender my part
© 2012 Varja Linnea Askeland all rights reserved
I had a recurring dream
The things I saw made my eyes sore
Heaven was burning
Angels shouting in unified war
I am here for a reason
Fear me not
Marked by a cloud of ash
Starts to rot
Down the condemned
Angels fell
To dwell in the dark
The eternity cell
This is the world you created
His prideful creation in hell
Where no light nor hope finds
That deserves you well
Now I wish I was blind
You bow your head in shame
And you begin to pray
Crying out his name
You pray for help
But your words remain unsaid
You pray to angels
But the angels are dead
I didn’t mean to cause you
So much pain
But it was this world
That made me insane
© 2012 Varja Linnea Askeland all rights reserved
Denna dikt specialskrev jag för serieromanen ‘Ghosts of the concrete world’
av Hanna Beatrice Norgren
The only one to count
Is right here inside
The only one to blame
Is the foolish pride
Why plant a desire
Only to deny?
Why allow eyes to see
Only to cry?
Creation of beauty
Could aswell be blind
Life could aswell be dead
A sin it was to have a free mind
This would be heavens fall
The change of his good name
Come and revenge us all
For we will not feel shame
He who once walked above the sun
Fell from his grace
He lost it all
Now the sun burns his face
© 2012 Varja Linnea Askeland all rights reserved
Poetry and Artwork 