Isnin, Disember 15, 2008

Dunkelheit (II)

for Kristian Virkenes

I knew, that I will never know you
Really-really close
Though I may call you
An honorable blasphemer, Varg
For your sordid act of killing your so-called ‘friend’
Just before you got struck by him
Who was a real coward as you stated
And not long before, before I forgot
The ‘classic’ and bravery act of the 12th Century
Church burning, as you been accused of
Where a wooden classic architectural heritage
Became your burial place
Tore to the unholy ground by the gasoline
A consequence for your raw tormented soul and anger
Who hunger for actions not just babbles
Before it, O the poor church,
Devoured to blackened ashes
Which was a pure symbolic act
Of the sliding if not collapsing
Religious structure under the freezing moon
That shocked the whole country, if not Europe
Dating back sometimes in ’92.

Unlike Euronymous who associated himself as a Viking
While he was actually not, not even an Aryan
Or an American Benton’s with his blah, blah, blah
Attacking the Judeo-Christian believe
While he’s STILL a Jew with nonsense invented cross
Elegantly on his burning-printed forehead
Which do I respond with the long pooooorah!
You were truly walked the talked
As a true rejection of modern society firmly
Which you claimed it as a revolutionary movement
Since ‘modernism’ itself was a creation
Of ‘modern mythology’
Created by the Roman Catholic Church
Of Christianity.

A ‘dangerous’ National-Socialist LEADER, as they called you,
The brainless media bullshit that never has any clue
Plus the childish authority that linking you
With some kind of terrible terrorist group
Like the Neo-Nazi assholes
Or even a Satanist
Which is pure stupid accuse
Since you never like Crowly, as far as I know
And his moronic Church of Satan,
Cause it’s just a coin with two different faces
If compared to the Catholic Church;
In fear of you cursing chaos among your ‘peers’
Pacifist folks in your own country,
And you too, always say never to;
Neither Capitalist nor Communist
Cause you’re actually, for me, like...
A born-again Romantic Pagan Naturalist.

Like a bird flying free
You‘re trying to catch
Your wild imaginations of romantic feeling, freely
In a tiny four walls made from bricks
By living in 18th Century or before
When there was no industrial culture to fit in
That can curse you having a nightmare, maybe
Working in the armpits of night time shift
While here, I stand alone
In my hot humid ‘colorful’ country
Romanticizing the true nature of the tropical climate
Which no longer fresh as breeze, but haze.

Other than that which I respect
Your personal attack on ultra-feminist
A sensuous ‘tribe’ I personally may call them
(As an objection to the foolish patriarchal
male domination maniacs of this rotten world)
Who feels humiliated if they’ve no ‘career’
A proper career, I mean, the ultra-feminist,
Where the prosperity is guarantee,
Just because being the housewife
Caring for their very own children
(If they have any)
Will curse them carrying ‘too much burden’
For the sake of goodness
Of the family;
I personally agreed.

After all, I might not agree with you, Varg
In certain matters, sorry
Because some of your statements were purely racist
Some of it I might say ‘yes, it’s OK’
Cause it worth consider for the second thought
While some others, of course, NOT,
Without just straight believe it all blindly
Like some (or many?) clueless Moslems
Believe in lustful Lebais
Like me, baby.

And before, again and again
I might be damned in the seven pits of hell
By celebrating your sensation as Naturalist pricks
I probably will repent by simply saying,
O Thy Lord, forgive me please!

Mohd Ikhwan Abu Bakar