AestaSolstice LIII

Seasons In Hell

Upon Aestas Solstice, I ponder the days getting shorter and the onset of Autumn, in the last stride towards Helloween, with macrocosmic manifestations emerging shortly after 4th of July celebrations. I do appreciate the scantily clad maidens and succubi in this season of Hellfire, burning away vestments of perfidy to allow for prideful demonstration, stimulating the Lusts of onlickers. 

Sorath, triumvirate ever-revolving! Amon, The Ram of The Sun, The Moon, The Stars... Black Sun Hellemental.

Evocations pondered of earthen adventures in nature traversing the wilderness, and themed environments created of imagination's fane. Satanimal Beast there runs rampant in carnal rapport possessing what may. Devil Winds course o'er flesh & hill to bring forth the shadows and gloom looming ominous in cumulus formation, a tapestry of Gothic splendor forever cycling throughout all timelessness. 

In Nomine Satanas,

Warlock Draconis Blackthorne
Haunted Noctuary, The Black Earth
21 June, LIII

Feasts: Outdoor preparations, nocturnal open flame in hellfire pits, roasted foods, diurnal/noctunal salads. Polynesian, Egyptian, middle eastern cuisine.
Total Environment Decor: Polynesian and Egyptian motifs

Author's Notes/Comments: 

When hellfire doth rise to encompass the black earth, salacious contemplation makes way for mutual carnal indulgence. And Satan is pleased.

View dblackthorne's Full Portfolio

Brown to green to brown

Brown to green to brown

   By jfarrell


So the leaves have changed since I sobered up;

Spring was starting

And now autumn, fall, is tapping on my shoulder;

From winter brown to spring green, back to brown.


As a hot summer cools to a warm (hopefully) autumn,

The leaves go through their red phase,

More blood red than brown;

The trees rain blood, as if in protest at what they see.


And maybe, we should listen to them;

Most of the trees are older than any living person;

If they could speak

What wisdom, what secrets might they share?


Maybe, there is only one wisdom, one truth;

“Stop worrying; He will provide”;

I’ve yet to see a tree exhausted with stress;

Or worrying where its next meal is coming from.


From brown to green to brown;

With a little scarlet, a little blood letting;

Maybe, this winter, the trees will wear their frosty cloaks; silver white;

And, maybe I will appreciate it more, than I did before.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

nature has many wondrous colours

View suicideslug's Full Portfolio

Summertime is Gone

Summer's fertile touch of life puts itself to sleep.

The radiant clouds shower us in their frozen weep.

The raven caws outside the door,

Miasma is seeping through the floor.

We cannot hold out anymore,

For summertime is gone.


Winter's touch as cold as ice

Envelopes this world in it's chill,

Growing ever colder still.


Iron are the shackles that bind

The gentle warmth we leave behind.

Silver is the ice that devours

Every fern and every flower.


The call has been heard loud and clear.

The time for winter is finally here.


The raven's caw outside the door.

The miasma seeping through the floor.

That gentle fire may shine no more,

For summertime is gone.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I wrote this after the first major snow (where I am) but edited and revised it before I posted it.

View anretsuhn's Full Portfolio

Seasonal Love

Spring Showers and Summer Sunshine.

The seasons pass the baton to one another.

Showers of love just to be dried off by the sunshine.

Being left with a feeling of warmth and belonging.

The seasons remind me of the perfect examples of love.

More than just words these actions trail right behind them.

Fall Leaves and Winter White Wine.

I bag up all your leaves and never let them over flow because I never want you to fell overwhelmed by life.

Your shoulders will never feel heavy while I'm here.

White wine for the celebration of our love because few experience what conquers all.

Everyday is a holiday of love. 365 days of something special.

Nature teaches me what should be natural.

It's aware my sight occasionally blinds me, but I can always feel the seasons.

View poeticfinesse's Full Portfolio

Autumnal Equinox XLIX A.S.

Seasons In Hell




Autumnal Equinox XLIX

As The Devil's Fog creeps in, we enter into Season Belial with quaking hooves rising up from cavernous depths, coinciding with heartbeats running with the passions of the Strong and the fears of the weak.


The shadow of Samhain sweeps the land with dreadful shapes, bringing nefarious joy to the children of darkness; while the herd glimpse but a season into the shadow side of their hidden minds, made manifest through necromantic reflections.


The flames of Hell reveal secrets lain occult, enlightening those who seek the mysteries of the black earth, marvels to behold, burning in mind and body, purifying with carnal bliss. The Season of The Beast yields a cornucopia of delightfully sinful pleasures for those who take The Devil's hand, the carnal blessings of the flesh. Pleasures and treasures, tricks and treats to have and to hold.


Leaves blown from skeletal trees in the cool, sweetly burning winds of timeless evocation, enhancing the Magic flow, as Baphomet's eyes glisten in the candle light, amidst the music of the eternal night. ∞




Shemhamforash! Hail Satan! So It Is Done.

In Nomine Satanas,

Warlock Draconis Blackthorne
The Haunted Noctuary, The Infernal Empire
Autumn Equinox, XLIX Anno Satanas

View dblackthorne's Full Portfolio

Summer Time

The sun in the heavens goes round e're round. 

He casts bright glory o'er forest and town. 

Healing warm rays are shone upon this season.

Filling our hearts with joy and reason.

It's a golden glad day, nay, tis a gilded grand year! 

For we love it when bright Summer time is here.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Pardon the alliteration ;)

View snalepaced's Full Portfolio


, , , , , , , , , , , , Edit

user img
Summer for light.
Fall for beauty.
Winter for clarity.
Spring for resurrection

The Train

First Poems

[Clackety Clack, clackety clack!]

Hurry up, my dear friend,

Train of life still has an end.

Hurry up, my lovely fellow,

Justice comes above or below.


Oh, honey dear, wouldn’t it be great,

To enjoy a cup of tea by the fire on a date?

To forget about the leaves

And the silver silky wigs?


Hmm… Didn’t you say that time is a gift?

So let’s stop contemplating and swift

Jump into dusty rusty air

With no prejudices, no care!


Didn’t you point out that time is a river?

Then, aren’t we a floating schooner?

So pull it on the side,

Against the will of the tide.


I have an idea for our gray years:

Flip the hourglass, my dear!

Yes, we’re doing fine, fragile doves

One for each of our loves.

Leaves depart their mother tree

And join a jolly dancing spree,

But tempests have no pity,

They rejoice in your infirmity.


Yellow, orange, red and even green

Whisper farewell and disappear from the scene.

Queen… of Winter settles her majestic palace,

So does she looms into my hair,.. and my essence…


Oh, you darling, train of this thread,

Can’t you be for once delayed?

Can’t you drop me by that place

To rewind my watch of space?


Spring has come,

But not for me…

Look, it’s final floor,


Sweetheart,… Close the door…

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is my first peice of art :)


Warm December

How nice of you,
To think of me.
Thoughts hammered with-
Hopes and fantasies.
Suddenly, I'm in a place-
I never asked for.
Yet you beg me to play along-
Told you to hold-
Your breath.


Don't you think that this will be the night-
You'd remember?
I'd hold you close-
Cold nights in December.
Bring you Summer days-
Springs tease.
I'll be  the one you-
Wont forget.
Stain your dreams.
Cold Sweats.