In the beginning there was a luminous dazzling light in dismal drab dreary darkness, and this fulgurous gleaming light, in wracking roiling shaking storm thickly enshrouded bob-weaved and ducked through glossy glassy shiny teardrop hailstones viciously riven from hoary massive frost-giant's eye-sockets in some far-flung fearsome fantasia; this lambent light, this veritable shining torch, this flickering firefly flew on flaming fiery comet-tails through a slavering shuddering storm spitting shattered stones of shining ice.
And through the rumbling bowels of electric agitated wailing wind the unimpeachable glorious heavenly voice of a Goddess spake thus: "Inferno, return to base immediately! "
Untroubled by brumal bitter chill nor gelid polar wind nor Zeus-unleashed hibernal storm this buoyant fiery armoured spirit, this lambent licking flame of lustrous ruby redness stroked by rose-painted fingers of Vesuvian light whose mighty spiky vigorous carapace shone wetly with the rubescent rosaniline lustre of a blood-drenched field of battle under a gruesome apocalyptic sunset, scarred the ice-flocked battered sky storm-bruised to eventide's dark frowning cloudiness with a violently bright shining whip-tail of nitrous flame and oleaginous fire that trailed behind him like a substantial battle-banner loudly pronouncing his profound exhaustive name to the four endless stupendous corners of the browbeaten enslaved earth and the creaking grinding rim of the frost-rimed heavens.
And the fire opened a maw of feral pointy teeth prised from the puissant jaws of archaic sharks vibrantly evolved to chromed perfection and replied thus: "Yes, my Queen!"
Combusting conflagrational ebullient fire was his name, Inferno, infernescent incandescent nuclear numinous luminous and thermogenic he a living exuberant flame drawn home as a death's-head fluffy moth to a hungry zesty flame by the single one, the only voice and the very living intense passionate flame of his arduous soul - his most aptly named scintillating spark that glistered vivaciously and twirled fervently within his alien-curved hard-thewed massive fighting body, all luminously lightning-lit and dripping sopping wet the spine-curdling colour fresh blood as if some giant hand had spilt upon him a vast vile cauldron of body-hot slobbery gore and gooey slopping grue.
And the storm did echo across the mountains and shake the earth as if her righteous angelic voice filled its grumbling thunderous belly with sinful fear and wicked longing, and the fire thought thus was rightly so.
She, his pious stunning Queen, his uncorrupted noble Royalty, the living terrific goddess to whom he humbly meekly knelt before her voluptuous sensational splendour - her great sublime bronze-pauldroned triumphant shoulders that bore the colossal impending weight of onrushing destiny, her imperial propagative belly wherefrom jewelled sparkling magenta eyes peered as if her unborn heirs, his nest-mates, could peer through her lush majestic flesh to behold their future earthly domain, her powerful husky fecund thighs of glossy ridged black gold and her burly stalwart greaves of burly brass that descended to her Herculean feet, her rugged claws, her rending dismembering talons masterfully carved in curved ripping hooks that wounded the very whimpering earth upon which she regally strode as if to remind it that it was perpetually unworthy to feel her glorious presence impressing upon it - her angelic voice called him to her side, to kneel at her feet and gaze upon the great robust amethyst scythes and his own warped, belittled reflection therein.
The fire reflected thus; for all my brightness, I am but a spark from her mighty flame.
And, oh, her face! Inferno's gore-coloured gaze glazed with slippery sleet that sharply sublimed upon the epic mammoth heat of his infinite burning lust which roared infernescent to think upon the marvellous face of the crowned and puissant Queen who summonsed him - that rapturous beauty, skinned in imperial ravishing lustre and blissfully crowned with a monumental helm of black gold which bespoke her infinite majesty and earthly, corporeal supremacy, for was she not the elevated Royalty, the Queen Herself, the Mother of the Colony, the Goddess Immortal? Were not her eyes twin vigorous volcanoes, fuchsine furnaces of magenta majesty with the gleaming glow of archaic ancient solar suns buried in their luminous thermautocratic depths? Was she not the peaking pinnacle of burnished beauty, an engraved Aphrodite of iron and bronze?
She adored in flames, his Queen of Fire.
His huge hammering heart beating mighty terrorized blows upon the love-burning inside of his powerful thick-hulled cuirass that bouncily threatened to dislodge his ocelli - as if his unmanned fear and intimidated daunted awe at entering the panic-striking presence of the amazing Queen, the mighty superb Queen, the wondrous supreme immortal Queen, the spreading future and incredible soul of the Colony, might blind him so that he should kneel down meekly and crawl timidly before her unable to see, never to look again upon her divine fantastic face, thus he entered her presence - he strode straight-spined into the hallowed chamber of her delightful dwelling standing tall and proud, her warrior, her slave, her prisoner of the throbbing, tender heart.
The Queen glanced upon him, and his nerves burst aflame upon the spot, and she spoke thus; "Ah, Inferno ... there you are."
She, divine, eminent procreation incarnate, reclined steam-bejewelled baroque and Faberge in her bubbling bath whose duck-traversed waters might well have boiled of their own adoring impetuous accord, so intense was the outstanding beauty of the magnificent Queen, so fierce the flaming fiery fires of her opalescent eyes that sparkled like precious red rubescent rubies, like glowing gleaming glittering glistering garnets and nitid satiny chalcedony, twin crown jewels in her lustrous polished helm of ash-black auric splendour. Her palatial opulent voice rolled richly over and around him, enfolding him in her spicily perfumed words that bore her rich resplendent redolence of immolatory immortal musk and searing swanky civet, the deluxe scent of her that vigorously stiffened his shaking spine and made his antennae rise quivering to eagerly actively snare every last meandering molecule of her engenderous enflaming aroma, as if he could eternally exist in the moment forever, enflamed enslaved and enlaved in her scent, eternally devouring her potent stirring perfumes.
Drugged by her scent, the fire found voice enough to speak thus; "Royalty! What is your command?"
Oh, cruel crooked fickle fate that made him her subservient servile slave! His gaunt gaze upon her bounteous beauty is starved raw with the clamorous hungers of fickle tyrannous flesh, and his sharp-set starveling famished flesh revolts in searing malnourished hunger, sizzling like steak on a griddle inside brutal forceful damaging armour, as the lethal heat from his enfamined belly devours his peckish entrails and savagely scorches its selfish way through his eyes, his ocelli, his antenna, his tongue and ears, his great compound eyes that refract his vision of perfection into a thousand views of the great glorious Goddess bathing.
The Queen held him in a vice of flames with her twin-sun eyes, and says nothing, for her eyes alone speak her need, her want, her whim that he would die to provide.
Fatal quaking attraction spawned in an instant of burning locked communicatory gazes spewed up a twitching dripping need-fire that roars and blazes and burns like a bonfire for the end of the world brought down by mindless violence. The Queen gazes upon him like a savage leopardess in lethal heat, consuming him with the baleful burning blazing fire of her empyrean eyes, her blazing gaze laving his quivering libidinous body with immodest consideration and, as his very sinews strain mightily to contain his desperate desire, she reluctantly releases her unbreakable hold of him, her flaming sparking gaze blazing a trail from eyes to ocelli to eyes again and lower still.
He does not comprehend why she looks upon him so, why her eyes burn with feverish hungers so akin to his own gaze upon her flaming divinity.
Her slight stifled sweet exhalation of dangerous distraught dolorous desire and miserable fraught loneliness spurs him like a twenty-metre rusty vivid iron spike driven swiftly through his muscular back as if some deranged colossal Cyclopean entomologist chose that destiny-entethered magical moment to collect him for pendulous posterity, to record and display menacing predaceous devastating desire upon the brutal edge of abominable abandonment. For her, he would gladly die upon a sharp pointy spike, or suffer any other fate, that she might look upon him and he know her to be pleased.
That sigh, that spur, precedes the cruel drive of the iron deeper into him, and her words searingly scorch him, immolate him in dangerous deranged desire, with the fiery flaking fierce fierceness of her need. Thus spake the Queen; "Approach me."
Ah! But she must be lonely, his Queen, his light-filled living life, his delightful dangerous desired desirous delight, for she has no dutiful drones to serve her naiad needs, nor are there nest-mates to tend her, to feed her, to carry out her commands. That she, the almighty prodigious unconquerable Queen, should labour as a warrior when all her lickable scented flesh is sacred to the Colony - is she not the great Goddess with the vital vial of mysterious strange unimaginable creation buried in her oil-black gold-girdled pelvis? - such a dastardly defilement of her perfect enchanted flesh! He would, if she wished, burn down all the naughty world that no being should look upon her beauty and sully it with murky milky alien eyes.
He scarcely dares look upon her as she lies in state, in water turned to heat against her energy-containing electrical body, and a purr escapes her perfect purple lips as she forsakes the spoken word and allows her fingers to speak with him.
With fingers like molten gold or rays of the sun exploding she beckons him to her, his crazy scarlet and carmine body madly reflecting upon the liquid languid metal of her invincible gauntlets like a vermilion giant crafted from some claret coral and rosy red rubies and filled with burning cochineal-smouldering cherry oils, for his head seems filled with the hazy perfumes of incense and ambergris, the foreign perfumes of the female, the Female, the Queen, the Goddess Engenderous.
His own wicked voice blindly betrays him with a crass crude animal cry, a damask spark of vermeil voice, as her fiery fingers blaze a tanned trail down his inner thigh, racking his lambent limbs with unbearable coppery fires; exquisite agonies of delight sharply shudder his jewelled rubicund joints and set feverish erubescent flames flashily licking around his burning brain now hopelessly helplessly seared to unendurable heat beneath her slightest touch.
His words, never crafted with more than workman's skill, forsake him, and his voice is the voice of fire - the wordless cry of passion fettered only by the hearth's extent.
She beckons him with her sceptres of burnished bronze that flirtily flicker over his fever-wracked rubescent curves and throbbing garnet joints aching with a thousand howling screaming lusting furnace-spirits, that bring him to his servile spiky knees choking upon a tormented tortured cry of compulsive need, unable to shape her name or his name or any word except a helpless suffering moan of abandoned adoration.
And the Queen smiled, pleased to see him helpless in her hands.
Her dancing delirious fingertips of fire-marbled bronze sear upon his teal-chrome angled ornamentless face when she touches him, fabulously defining him with a pact-sealing kiss of whip-hot fanned flame, and he wonders if her ferocious fire will consume him, for her touch alone is an apocalyptic heat far beyond mortal comprehension - it enflames him, sears and scorches, and its massive pulsating fires blast through him from the cheek she so gently, so wisely, so wonderfully caresses to fill his whole tremulous ravenous rapacious body with flames of delight and he trembles, passions scarce leashed though dutiful devotion holds him still.
Thus spake the Queen; "Inferno ... get in the bath."
She regally reclines in swirling water that boils for her divinity, a steam-bath that sears and swirls as he lowers himself as if he could kneel in the water, as if he could douse the howling pining heat that compulsively consumes him from within, as if he could kiss her feet, and he would if there was but room in the bath of passion for him to do so. His bulbous abdomen, a vast weight upon his barbaric back forcing him down like the burden of his lust, it pulses with contained energies that race through his aching body terribly tormented by hungry heat-nymphs eagerly entwined in mad mating dances.
And he spake thus; "My Queen ... how may I serve you?"
In her august imperatorial eyes he saw stately stars eructastically erupt in their deadly death-throes and throw their conflagrant cosmic astral ashes into the phoenix pyre that their rotund reborn nova should illustriously illuminate her fearful flagrant fiery gaze which crushingly cremates his identity, burningly blasts out his shaken seared sobbing soul, scorches clean his bemused baffled devoted brain and blackdrafts deep dire wounds right through his pulsing shaking lusting body.
The Queen spoke thus; "Come closer ..."
The terrifying supernova embrace took a mystical moment, a smouldering shudder of ignited passions meeting and greeting with flickering firestorm force, of sweltering furnaces exploding to melt their glowing overheated bodies against one another like flaming iron meeting flaming iron in the furnace of hot love to forge a unified alloy, a fusion, a fuzor of reginasaurus and myrmecoservitor; a tumbling, thumping mass of sticky claws and pulling fingers they entangled enrapt and gasping.
The Queen spoke no words, but her peremptory perfumed breath upon his throat bespoke her delight.
Bimetacarpal barbaric hands edged for killing needs must learn a new sizzling sign-language, a veritable tropical tactilexicon of searing stroke and sweltering nip and scorching soothe, a whole new acrolect of amour aflame, a sticky-fingered groping in the muggy humid darkness between words for the point, the place, the very essence of broiling enjoyment; fingering blind-folded-fingered with folds and furrows for the buttons to press that will make the Queen's thermonuclear optic points roll back up towards her majestic wonderful brow and her goddess voice come out in a little gasp of delight, a dainty fainting swoon, an exhalation of spirited transport.
No words had either lover yet as lips met and metal melted into unalloyed pleasure they discoursed freely in pheromones and saliva.
Surging spines eagerly entwined like lambent loving fingers, their radiant movements cast flashing sparks and whipped a whirlpool in the welling waters blasted free of any lingering chill. Forging her incisure provoking a seizure of breath halted by halters around throat and nape and gape all bound with heart-strings and he held her shaking in his love-red arms as he vigorously stirred the fulminous flaring light-cracked ashes of her fructuous heavenly hearth with his red-hot poker.
Involuntarily, the great globular weight on his bulky armorial back rose and splayed open, sweeping sanguine leaves of a fire-flower unfurling flag-like and full-stretched to begin a solemn rotation, a slow spiraling towards the sensuous moment of sky-blasting solar eclipse. The reaching shadow of his earthbound flight, his drone-wings splayed open like the divine earth-black gold of her fecund yielding thighs, made a shuddering thaumatrope of celestial luminous icons of the unparalleled beauty of her fire-eyed face, and in the moments of dangerous darkness the smouldering fires of her ignited eyes charred his mind into loving cinders.
Thus the Queen spoke in her rapture; "Oh, yes! "
There and then, the subtle gasp almost soundless, almost breathless, almost death; the slow downfall of eyelids over up-turned optics filled with the mindless momentary coruscation of crowning corporal crescendo; the restful ripple-release of tectonic trembling tension across cheekbones as her majestic mouth opens in near-silent surrender; the whole body relaxes into his amorous arms, limp-limbed sated and warm within. The Queen's thighs spasm ecstatically about his waist, curling claws tearing great gashes in his abdominal leaves in one moment of tension and ecstasy.
Her cry, her silence, was the word that decreated his world.
Her divine delicious delightful delight could not fail to immediately entrance and terrifically transport him, and upon powerful phoenix wings of draconic delight he rose aroused above the searing pain of her rending ripping rapture and detonated internally, exploding a shower of sparks, hot metal struck upon the anvil of ecstasy cascading effervescent fireworks. Agonizing seizures of acute glory roar rapidly though his enflamed ebullient brain and all that remains is a scant gasp like the sparks he casts in her darkness.
Thus the fire cried; "My Queen!"
She, replete, sated and soothed, appetites dulled from consuming conflagration to tempered embers banked a sullen glow in the darkness of her mystic ancient chamber, reclined still majestic and unperturbed, and as he found some slim strength remained in shaky limbs scoured empty by the flames of passion she regarded him with half-closed libidinous blazing magenta eyes bespeaking an eternity of future rapturous overtures. In her luxuriant leisurely repose, basking in the glory of her refulgent flesh bedewed with diamonds of water, her mighty chest heaving with the effort of their endeavors, her holy hands draped like sacred relics upon the rim of the bath-tub-love-nest, she was to him the ultimate image of perfection.
Her victorious voice luxuriously languid as befitted a Goddess with carnal appetites sated, she spake thus; "Go back to your patrol ... oh, and tell Scorponok my bath needs repairing."
Ever a slave to her slightest whim, he strode rubber-kneed from her celestial chamber still dripping with her every essence, smirch-badged with her sanctified scent and blessedly blazoned with the impression of her grasping powerful fingers upon his muscular dedicated arms. Thus marked, consecrated, promoted and ascended to a heady state of glorious fulfillment, of purpose, of life consumed in moments of divine fire, he sought the lowly creeping scorpion and repeated the words of the Queen to him.
Acrolect: (From Greek akron 'summit' + lect as in 'dialect') The most prestigious dialect of a particular language.
Ambergris: (From Old French amgre gris 'grey amber') A wax-like substance from the intestines of sperm whales used in perfume.
Auric: (From Latin aurum 'gold') Of gold.
Bimetacarpal: (From Latin bi 'two' + Greek metakarpion 'after the wrist') Two-fingered.
Civet: (From Arabic zabad denoting perfume) A strong musky perfume derived from the scent glands of the civet mammal.
Cuirass: (from Latin, corium "leather") Armour comprised of a joined breastplate and back-plate.
Cyclopean: (Mythological) Massive; in association with the giant Cyclops.
Fantasia: From Italian, meaning 'fantasy.'
Fuchsine: (From German fuchs 'fox') A deep red synthetic dye.
Gelid: (From Latin gelidus 'intense cold') Extremely cold.
Greaves: Armour for the lower legs.
Incisure: (Anatomical) A deep indentation or notch.
Myrmecoservitor: From myrmeco 'ant' + servitor.
Nitrous: (From Latin nitrosus 'nitrous') Of nitrogen.
Ocelli: (Zoological; from Latin, diminutive of oculus 'eye') A light-sensitive pigmented spot on the bodies of invertebrate animals.
Oleaginous: (From Latin oleum 'oil') Oily or rich in oil.
Pauldron: Armour for the upper arm.
Rosiniline: (Chemical) Reddish synthetic compound used to make red dies such as fuchsine.
Reginasaurus: From Latin regina 'queen' + saurus 'lizard.
Rubescent: (From Latin rubescent 'reddening') Reddening.
Sublimed: (Chemistry; from Latin sublimis 'up to a threshold') Change directly from solid to vapour.
Thaumatrope: (From Greek thauma 'marvel' + tropos 'turning') Another term for a zoetrope.
Vesuvian: Of or relating to Vesuvius.
Translations: Getadelt wird wer Schmerzen kennt - Whoever knows pain becomes criticized Vom Feuer das die Haut verbrennt - From the fire that burned up the skin Ich werf ein Licht - I throw a light In mein Gesicht - In my face Ein heisser Schrei - A hot cry Feuer frei! - Fire freely! [The German equivalent of "Open fire!"] Geadelt ist wer Schmerzen kennt - Whoever knows pain is raised Vom Feuer das in Lust verbrennt - From the fire that burns in desire Ein Funkenstoss - A sparkthrust [lit. sparkthrust - can also be translated as "a hard thrust which gives off sparks" or "a burst of sparks"] In ihren Schoss - In her womb ["Schoss" can mean lap or bosom but in the context of the song it's pretty clear what is meant] Ein heisser Schrei - A hot cry Feuer frei! - Fire freely! [The German equivalent of "Open fire!"] Lyrics in order of quotation: "After Dark I Feel" (c) Rotting Christ. "Freedom or Fire" (c) Fear Factory. "Feuer Frei!" (c) Rammstein. "With Strength I Burn" (c) Emperor. "Moonlight" (c) Rotting Christ. "Presents from the Poison-Hearted" (c) Cradle of Filth. "With Strength I Burn" (c) Emperor. "A Gothic Romance: Red Roses for the Devil's Whore" (c) Cradle of Filth. "To Eve the Art of Witchcraft" (c) Cradle of Filth. "The Tongue of Fire" (c) Emperor. "Desire to Fire" (c) Machine Head. "A Crescendo of Passion Bleeding" (c) Cradle of Filth. "Desire to Fire" (c) Machine Head. "Heaven Torn Asunder" (c) Cradle of Filth. "Presents from the Poison-Hearted" (c) Cradle of Filth. "How We Became Fire" (c) Moonspell. "Nocturnal Supremacy" (c) Cradle of Filth. "Babalon A.D. (So Glad for the Madness)" (c) Cradle of Filth. "To Eve the Art of Witchcraft" (c) Cradle of Filth. "Fuel" (c) Metallica. "To Eve the Art of Witchcraft" (c) Cradle of Filth. "The Black Goddess Rises II" (c) Cradle of Filth. "Feuer Frei!" (c) Rammstein. "Queen of Winter, Throned" (c) Cradle of Filth. "With Strength I Burn" (c) Emperor. "Desire in Violent Overture" (c) Cradle of Filth.