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Trans_il_vanian_blood
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i'll be the queen and ur my king forevermore...

mem_normal OFFLINE
Female
18 years old
Tripolis
Greece
Profile Views: 310
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MY DETAILS
JOB: High School
SMOKE: No
DATING STATUS: Engaged
DRINK: Sometimes
RELIGION: Other
ORIENTATION: Bi
BODY TYPE: More to love
MEMBER SINCE: 11/26/2009
STAR SIGN: Capricorn
LAST LOGIN: 03/12/2010 04:23:14
MY RATING: 9.99

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TURN ON'S
only one thing can turn me on so much...my boyfriend my true love...

ABOUT ME
well....i'm from romania and i got moved in greece 2 years ago becouse of my parents relathionship how ever i live with my mom and my step father..hmmmmm...what else...i cant support the idea that i'm lonely without friends and sitting in the house reading books and cry for my friends that they r far away now...Thats it about me didnt had an very interesting story

MY GALLERY

MY FRIENDS
Trans_il_vanian_blood has 21 friend(s)



Displaying 10 out of 55 comments
From: DaveDoom51
03/09/2010 04:38:48


I thought I would stop by with an offering to the almighty Industrial god....so lets all take our injections.......throw paint at the walls......and start our Tuesday right !!!?
Hope this helps !




From: DaveDoom51
02/24/2010 10:41:22



I posted a video of my poem "Toltec Dreams" on your page a few weeks ago....the poem described a horrible event foretold by many cultures...a time of great tribulation.........The following poem (I have yet to put it into a video format) describes the promise for the coming age .... after the time of cleansing ... a promise of peace to come. I hope you enjoy it.






The Promise


I open to sweet Aether's promise, old majik demands my full attention...
Merging with ancestral memory, intent embraces lost traditions.
Power stalks the earth tonight, searching for a willing vessel...
As it was in ages past, seeking only those whose hearts can tell.

I feel delicious power merging, dancing with my soul again...
I chant forgotten words of power, I sing my peoples' sad refrain.
For it is time to right the wrongs, punish those who would not see...
Those who only sought their pleasure, those who claimed we were not free.

I hear the screams of women still, wailing echoes from the past...
My tears reflect lost children's faces, crimes I'm unwilling...to let pass.
Madness flowing in my veins, the lines of power bending...
Earth groaning in anticipation, as I begin my awful sending.

I call upon my fallen brethren, call their bodies from the grave...
Bone and sinew formed from dust, their warrior souls so proud and brave.
Legions rise from sacred ground, gnashing teeth demanding blood...
As with the gentle rippling waters, that join together to bring the flood.

Oh, wash this land free of the filth, sweep those away that raped our nation...
My blade thirsts for retribution, my lips form forbidden incantations.
I bring with me forgotten majik, truths our elders once knew well...
Wachichu souls depraved and shallow, now consigned to white-man's hell.

Once again the children play, the women sing...the wise-men pray...
My thirsty soul soaked in the blood, of vanquished enemies, today.


© August, 2009 ~DaveDoom51~ all rights reserved




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From: GothicHeart16
02/21/2010 12:09:03

hi! thanks for accepting my friend request. nice to meet you.

From: darkangel_blackwings
02/19/2010 16:56:45




From: Valar_Morghulis
02/19/2010 14:51:19

hi there whats new?

From: DaveDoom51
02/14/2010 10:26:35


Here is a tale of greed and corruption...Cibola was the mythical location of the "seven cities of gold" sought by heroes....Most notably by Coronado among the Pueblo peoples of what was to become the desert southwest of the United States. His methods for gathering information included rape, pillaging, and murder....nice guy, hunh???
This, my latest imagining, confirms that the "Beast", in truth lays within mankind's heart. I hope you enjoy my latest.....perhaps I could get your feedback???





Cibola (evil bytch)


Sentient metropolis formed of gilded bricks, sought by heroes through-out the ages...
Bytch masquerades as a modern city, perverting truth found...in prophecy's pages.
Such foul evil dwells within her heart, it feeds this corpse of urban-blight...
Awakening mankind's slinking fears, feeding her desire for eternal night.

Back-lit-desert skies and silken thighs, beckon to neo-demon losers...
Inviting greedy shallow posers, and with them scores of cruel abusers...
To gather upon her concrete byways, amidst the glitzy high-rise towers...
To couple in her seedy rooms, and spill their blood...in the darker hours.

Players confer in her shadowed alleys, neon harbingers flash the news...
Nuns strut their vulgar sunday-habits, their bodies scarred by rude tattoos.
Parishioners vie for sweet redemption, held prisoner by their oaken pews...
And children in their plastic classrooms, continue...to be sorely used.

Such actions please her foul intent, marking her profane ascendance...
Like sheep we seek such false transcendence...
Denying our primal independence.

Rutting imps achieve their satisfaction, quickening this bytch's swollen womb...
Insuring mankind's cruel destruction, their lost souls adorn creation's tomb.
Her swollen fecund belly stretching, diseased prophets screaming their approval...
Claiming we were worthless vassals, arranging for our prompt removal.

A birth foretold by men of knowledge, their plotting soon to be rewarded...
With riches that overflow their coffers, to first be counted...before it's hoarded.
Unwitting pawns they've proved to be, they and their sweaty machinations...
Humanity's death their true reward, the spawn of their wretched masturbation.

At last the beast roars his desire, once more to walk upon this plane...
Bytch spreads her thighs in wet compliance, welcoming her birthing pain.
Womb weeping with each fell contraction, pain nearly driving her insane...
And thus is born the Lord of Flies, to feast on stolen souls again.


As was foretold down countless ages, greed lubricates perverted actions...
Like sheep some seek such interaction...
They find no lasting satisfaction.


© February, 2010 ~DaveDoom51~ all rights reserved




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From: DaveDoom51
02/10/2010 00:31:08


Here is a lil summn from Combichrist to help you get a leg-up on yer day!!!




Combichrist - Sent To Destroy

From: DaveDoom51
02/04/2010 12:15:28


Well, it has come time to touch bases with all my friends again. Often I can't catch some of my friends on-line to speak with them in a personal way, and this is my way of letting them know I still care. As usual, my over-riding interest is in writing and I never know what to include with my comment.....This time I am choosing a video (everyone likes video it seems) that I enjoy....I am Native American, and I wrote this poem as an occult celebration of my heritage. I do hope you enjoy the vid!




Toltec Dreams

From: DaveDoom51
01/26/2010 05:29:52


I figured I was overdue for a visit to my friends, so here is a lil something I hope will set the mood for your day.





Daemon Mass

From: DaveDoom51
01/26/2010 04:21:02

Hey Blood .... It is great to run into you on-line....How bout a dark thought to start your evening???



The Beguiled


She asked a question of me, it reverberates in my head---
She asked me if I’m happy, if I’d be happier when I’m dead.
I find myself now thinking, of the choices I have made---
Pretty sure my soul is damned, surely that is better left unsaid.

Dark thoughts spawn uneasiness, birthplace of my dread---
Perhaps I should consider, what occurs when we are dead.
If only death would bring surcease, deliver me from pain---
No longer seeking evil pleasures, bring me innocence once again.
Such thoughts as these accompany me, tonight's journey has no ending---
No solace for my tortured soul, I am trapped within this foul intending.
Knowledge gained so long ago, demands that I fulfill---
Fell obligations to this power, seeking someone's dreams to kill.

Majik surging deep inside me, causing my obscene erection---
Desperate to complete my task, no time now for such introspection.
Sounds of gnashing teeth assail me, at my entry to the shrine---
Acolytes of Satan's promise, on the floor their limbs entwined.
And there upon the ornate altar, writhing to the ancient chanting---
Nameless woman gestures to me, unsurprised I find I'm panting.
Which daemon is it now constrained, within my human form---
Who takes this willing offering, that the world can be transformed?

How many times, how many places---
How many women beckoning---I can’t remember all their faces.
This daemon that’s inside of me, fulfills his ritual mating---
Which writhing member’s dream’s fulfilled, which lusts were consummated?
I think I have an answer now, to my daughter’s question---
An answer now so long forgotten, a matter tied to indiscretion.
Some of our youthful choices, often glibly made in haste---
Can grow to such proportions; they can lay our lives to waste.

I implore you gentle listener, please take these words to heart...
Power gained from others' suffering, has no wisdom to impart!


© March, 2008 ~DaveDoom51~ all rights reserved





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