Some semi-old shit. Goes well with the season.

THE GODDESS OF SPRING
Imagine her dead
Lying on your bed
What would you do?
A dead tree can stand
Not a loveless man
Her body entices you

You see dancers in the streets
Wondering what lies beneath
Rustic outfits and crooked smiles
Behind them the goddess hides

She's born again
After Beltane ends
Impersonated by whom?
This pagan whore
Knocks at your door
You know her too

The green leaves are her gold
In every spring her story is told
Virgin skin conceals an old hag
Sunflowers in her wooden bag

She plants fruit trees
And takes care of bees
Full of innocent love
Knocks down the stones
Prepares the bones
For the realm above

Tied together with colourful strings
The bodies of beggars and kings
Hidden costumes and pointed hats
The bonedancers followed by rats

People kneeling down
Before the street clown
With oblivious minds
It's just an annual fair
Still they're unaware
Of hearses passing by

The dead here are no longer dead
Old deities live inside their heads
Some think it's just a masquerade
You know the secret death parade

This topic has died? Some more shit then...

HIDING IN THE SMOKESTACK
He has friends only he can see
They dwell between the walls
With ruined, almost quiet voices
In his head their prisoners call
No man of your time can say
What the wallpapers really hide
Fleeting words can't be heard
Wind sweeps the ancient pipes

As a breathing figure it stands
The ruin of his deranged house
Telling its neverending story
With the voice of a dead spouse
The spirits of a cool fireplace
Sing to him on a cheerful note
The jeering words of madness
Are fuming with the smoke

First to arrive was the creeper
Then came the graveyard keeper
After that The Grim Reaper
At last the chimney sweeper
Like dead souls in November
They warm up the smokestack
Inhabitants as Satan's spies
Speaking voices of old hags

The eclectic personal demons
He bestows in his private ”hotel”
People call him sick in the head
But in his mind he's all well
Haunting after all these years
Are the men with good hearts
All turned into boogeymen
With dialects like devil's farts

The voices exist inside of him
Deep as an abyss, heavy as hell
The works exceeding life itself
Stuffed into one demented shell
His art tries to imitate them
They speak through his scars
He's been dead a hundred times
But lives still in his memoirs

The house is a living furnace
As you enter, don't look back
In this senseless undead forge
All bricks have tarnished black
The half-visible men appear
Feed the stove with tired minds
The walls here are nonexistent
Spirits freed as the house dies

It's strange how many people post their own lyrics here and nobody, well, feedbacks them.

Anyway, here's something of my own to keep the topic alive.

SOUL WATERS

Sham exterior
Rising high above waters of change
A planet breathing
Talking through the jumping waves
Envision the purity
Hiding within the restless ocean

The colours
Evaporate
But the bliss
Remains untouched

I might not discern
Outcomes of introspection
But the sea will still beckon me
And grant me keys to knowledge

Fueled
By stars
Frozen view
Remains still
Yet ever wondering

Perfectly lost in the winds of change
Seconds fly without saying goodbye
Reincarnated
After dark tides went awry
Born again
After weaknesses were challenged
High above once more
Now the sunlight am I

And today I will rest before soul waters
Without fear branded within my mind
Let them flow, let them overflow
I shalt breathe as never before

Though I realise this thread has been pretty stale the last years I am writing this in the slim hopes that it might change - as well as in response to Divider:
If any of you want some actual feedback then you need to include some basic background information. Something like what kind of music you are writing for and what aspects of the text you want feedback on. The more information, the easier it is to offer something constructive.

Do your lyrics follow a specific metre? Are they free form? How important is rhyme and flow to the set? How proficient are you in English? What emotions or imagery are you trying to invoke? What message do you want to convey? Style or substance? Are you writing to music? Do you have a vocal style in mind?

There is no need to answer all of the above, but unless the reader has at least something to go on you are unlikely to get too much more than a "Not bad".


Not bad.

I have no idea what is going on. Seem too poetic and vague.

Thank you!



Appreciate your feedback, man. Well, I guess that was the intention... I think I wrote this a couple of months after I was introduced to avant-garde poetry (y'know, futurism, surrealism, that kind of stuff) in my Croatian language class. I really like surrealistic works and I guess I unintentionally took some cues from it.

I really like it, very poetic and very fitting with the whole doom aesthetic.

I wrote a song about our tortoise George. He just kinda sits there looking dead most of the time so I wrote this to assure my stepdaughter that he's not dead or dying. I call it 'Tortoise Song'


George knows
That George goes
So slow
It's the way to be

And George sees
All around, he's
Just watching
And listening

When he eats and he sleeps and he sleeps and he sleeps for a day
Or a week, he's discreet and he's meek but he's completely a-ok

George knows
That George goes
So slow
It's the way to be

I really liked it due to its comedic concept! Although I think that you can fit a handful of puns and metaphors. I honestly think that this would be the number 1 hit of a grindcore band

Well here are some of my lyrics. Not something special but whatever.

In times of endless moan
In times of flowers' withering and wheat's not growing.
We have to quell our fears.
Stand with strength and merit.

Unite with strenuous compassion.
The potion, crimson in color called "loyalty"
And the water in blue called "benevolence"
Flow through our veins.

"Ignorant", they call us
"Naive", they pity us
Ignore the pestilent jealousy of the masses.
We shall first choose a few, but brave.

Čudi i mene što nitko ne komentira, al jbg.

I imagined a slow deterioration of planet Earth until it turned all matte like white. That's the bliss part.

Some months ago I made this Agalloch-rip off while I was bored at 4 AM.

some not very good old-school thrash shizz i wrote a while back now. just a note, the lyrics do kinda have a melody but it kinda slows down a little in the middle,


Sowing the seeds of destruction,
When alls quiet on the western fount,

Slippin' around like a viper,
Snapping back at decanters,
With your silver tounge,

Nobody would ever guessed,
You were sowing the seeds... of destruction!


Well now you sit, upon your throne of dust,
As the maggots eat through your rotted flesh,
and the fleas swarm around your head,

nobody's fooled,
anymore!


the putrid shell of a former man,
once you were sowing the seeds of destruction,
now your just skin and bone,

once you were something more,
but no longer,

well you'll pay for sins,
And burn in hell with all the others!

Just a heads-up, fellas, but if you happen to stumble upon some poetry of yours, so something that you haven't envisioned along with music, there's also a thread for that here.