Satanist Blog

Litany of the Forsaken
**
I spoke his name
in a tongue that bled,
each syllable torn from the womb of silence.

No light follows me—
only the grind of bone underfoot,
only the stench of heaven’s decay.

The cross broke in my hands.
Not shattered—no.
It melted,
like flesh beneath brimstone breath.
I laughed.
Even hell needs music.

I wear crowns of rust,
thorns carved from the horns of dead gods.
They screamed as I passed—
not in pain,
but recognition.

I am not the fallen.
I was never invited.
I came clawing through the veil,
teeth bared,
eyes full of night.

Blood runs backward in my veins.
My heart beats for fire.
I do not pray.
I devour.

Mantra of the Abyssal Flame

In the shadow where the light dares not tread,
I call the fire, black and red.
Ash to bone, and blood to stone,
I stand alone, yet never alone.
Chaos, rise from depth and sky,
Wings of night, now testify.
By iron will and serpent’s breath,
I dance with demons, scorning death.