Tag Archives: delusions

Edited-The Real 7 Deadly Sins

22 Jun

For those interested, here is the edited version of my video.

Thank you to those who took a few moments out of their lives to watch.

I deeply and truly appreciate it and you.




The Real 7 Deadly Sins

17 Jun

My video is not perfect & it’s too long. However, I believe that it is worth unleashing your mind and giving it a go. Thank you kindly.


 The unequivocal truth about the world we have created and inhabit.
I do not own the rights to the music or any of the images used in the making of this video unless otherwise specified.
©DarkRose Productions


Five O’Clock

1 Jun

Property of DarkRose Productions
Copyright 2014
By Julia DarkRose Ray

*An edited re-post of a recent prose of mine.*
Five o’clock

It is five o’clock.
The fiery star begins his descent.
I think of all the hands
that are pulling down dingy shades
in a thousand, unremarkable furnished rooms,
bereft of any remarkable life.
I am aware of the damp souls of house maidens
waiting despondently at the door, smiling
and welcoming comfortable companions home,
while their passions flame is slowly extinguished.
Upon the glazen shelves of their abode,
are echos of their own life,
too many unrealized dreams,
written by ardent, burning souls.

My laughter tinkles among the teacups.
My laugh is like an irresponsible child.

Swaying now in the wind like a field of ripe corn,
I stand on the highest stair of her pavement,
lean on the garden urn-calling to her.
I weave, weave, weave,
the fading sunlight of the flameless maidens hair.
Oh my sweet night, she is but as simple and faithless
as a smile and a shake of the hand.

She knows only
A heap of broken images,
where the sun beats fierce and merciless,
And the dead tree gives no shelter,
the cricket no relief,
and the dry stone no sound of water.

There is shadow under the red rock,
I beckon to her, come in under the shadow of this stone,
and I will show you something different from either
your shadow at morning striding behind you
or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you your fear in a handful of dust.

Come with me, my sweet soul.
Or forever be a shape without form,
shade without color,
A paralyzed force,
gesture without motion.
Between the idea
and the reality,
between the pantomime
and the act
that falls to umbra.

I shall remember her,
as a child full of fear
and imagined grace,
I shall remember her,
if at all-
not as a lost violent soul,
but only
as a hollow husk.

And so,to her, in a sanguine whisper,
I utter,
terminate your torment
of love unsatisfied,
of life unfulfilled.
Where shall the truth be found,
where will the truth resound?
Not here, not in the false light of day,
there is not enough silence.

Come with me into the sable forest,
if you can bare the reality.
Our footfalls shall echo in the memory of life
down the passage which you were too scared to take
towards the door you have never opened,
into the night blooming garden,
that you have never seen.

Shall she follow me?
Shall she walk with me?

In my garden…
Garlic and sapphires in the mud
clot the bedded axle-tree.
The trilling wire in the blood
sings below inveterate scars
and reconciles forgotten wars.

At the still point of the beautiful night,
neither flesh nor fleshless.
Sudden in a shaft of moonlight
even while the dust still moves
there rises the hidden laughter
of children in the foliage,
the children of the Crimson Moon.
Quick now, here, always-
Dance! Laugh! Sing! Be the beast!

In my beginning,
in the Dark,
stretching before and after.
The time of the seasons
and the constellations.
The time of milking and the time of harvest.
The time of coupling of man and woman,
and of our beasts.
Feet rising and falling,
eating and drinking.
Dung and death.

In the beginning there was darkness.

It’s five O’clock,
the sun sets now.
We have risen.
We are the new light,
We are the Darklight.

And one last time I say to her,
Come, my sweet child,
for my ravings on this windy night,
shall never echo in your ears again.

It is five O’clock,
where do you want to be?
Who do you want to be?

The church bells ring…
It’s five O’clock.


The Viper’s Tongue

19 May

Property of DarkRose Productions
Copyright 2014
By Julia DarkRose Ray

The Viper’s Tongue

Serpents Tongue 2

Oh, that viper tongue that doth tempt and soothe the brain with its lies and delusions.
That diseased tongue shall rise and wind its glittering coils
about your feverish fears again and again,
you look into their ‘clear’ hypnotic eyes;
Oh how they ‘confess’ their power firmly and without fail.
How they will turn on you and tease, how they will
charm you with that false wit and wisdom, under their will
to consume and dominate, to bind you with their filth.

May you, my dears, stare them down and hold them still:
Breathe back out their contagion,
Slice off their liars tongue,
Stuff it down their cancerous throat,
Be fearless and bathe them in the erotic purity
of the truth:

“ True knowledge I have
while thou hast none,
I can make songs
beyond thy tongue;
All of thy offerings
are now first mine:
I keep my spirit
and need not thine.
I am truth,
I fly freely through the air.
Horns of velvet.
feathers many,
pure and essential as water,
red as flame-
shed thy blood
and sign my name.”


Dark Dancer

15 May
Property of Julia DarkRose Ray
Copyright 2014
By Julia DarkRose
Dark Dancer
Dark Dancer

I’m dancing, dancing, dancing
In the shadows.
Trailing my hair in the dust
Catching patterns in the light.

The creatures of the day
look at me from behind their glass prisons.
I laugh.

I claw at my face,
My blood flows rapidly
down my body while the
Wings in my head beat
Faster and faster…

I’m the lucky one.



Sleep of Madness

10 May
Property of DarkRose Productions
Copyright 2014
By Julia DarkRose Ray

*This is an edited version of prose that I have previously published on FB.*
The Sleep of Madness

How do you fill the silences between the ticks of time?
Whither fled your strength and your ascending spirit?
Whither fled your laughter and your superior condescension?
Where now stands your scaffolding of knowledge,
those limbs of light and truth whereon you climbed,
wherein you played?
All are now pulled down by the truth,
your lean possessions of your soul shrunk to fill a little box:
And all your senses, your delights,
turned pale and leached of taste,
paled to a scentless draught
that rusts your heart to a mere foolish ticking clock.

Oh, how your brain
Must break
Your bone
Must crack
Your blood
Must clot
Your heart
Must stop
Your flesh
Must rot
Your spirit
Must wither.

You are the stricken,
dying the true death,
shrouded in your long black veil of lies,
wrapped in your loss:
Silent you wait,
clouded by the tears of your true spirit,
torn by the wind,
ragged with soiled mist:
Where you are wounded,
there is no healing.
Where you decay
nothing is sound.
Ravaged by the false dark,
abandoned by your own self,
silent you wait.
Shadows of gray:
Old in your broken
house of flesh and spirit.
Old among ruined
pillars of stars,
old as the halls
to which you descend.
Old as your deception
that does not end.

Elixirs fade
and potions fail,
the gold is rusted from your grail,
the wine is changed
to water thin.
The blood is wasted
from the skin,
and all that from
the glass is drunk
may leave you only
smaller shrunk.

Shall there be no alternative?
Neither recourse nor choice?

The choice is to fall into the sleep of madness
or follow that which is truly within…
The truth of the universe,
your primordial energy,
your true dark angel awaits.
Open the door to your mind…
Come on in.


Life Is A Hell Of A Thing

22 Apr

Property of DarkRose Productions
Copyright 2014
By Julia DarkRose Ray
Life is a Hell of a Thing
Life is a hell of a thing…

Does all that you know fit in the palm of your hand? Can all that you know fit into a giant box?

Do all of your thoughts and ideas belong to someone else?

What do you know that truly belongs to you, that are truly your own thoughts and ideas?Even though as a society we take ideas from all kinds of different resources…it is still possible to have your own thoughts and ideas born from within your essence.

Many are afraid to voice or write their own thoughts and ideas for fear of their “peers” ridicule and admonishment…

I’m here to tell you about something new…it’s called believing in yourself and your own thoughts and ideas!!!! Try it, I mean really voice or write your own ideas and thoughts, believe in yourself and what you know, for you, to be true.

I’m here to tell ya, there’s something else.

It’s called NOT being a sheep.
It’s called believing, I mean really believing and having faith in yourself not giving all your glory and power away to some made up, mythical being…you are the true divinity that permeates our universe!!!!

It is time for a new reign…the reign of ignorance born from unfounded fear and willing slavery (which is an oxymoron) is over, at least it is over for those who embrace their own truths born from within their very essence, their core, their true foundation of who and what they really are.

Our reign (those who practice true freedom of thought) is one of non-reign, we, Dark Angels (or whatever label you choose to identify yourselves to the rest of humanity) should be conducting ourselves as an example to the rest of our world, an example of how non-sheep, free beings actually live and thrive in a society of
enslaved sheep!

No one is qualified to tell you whether you are truly free, or who you truly are, that’s true, however, most people’s conduct and subsequent inability to NOT be an enslaved sheep, is quite telling of who and what you truly are.

So, please, if you have your own thoughts and ideas, please have faith in yourself and believe in your ability to help change the world, for the better…And share your ideas with us, The DarkRose Journal Family, for we are truly a Tribe of the Crimson Moon and we honor and cherish and learn from all that are willing to walk with us upon this miraculous sphere that we call Earth.

Thank you.

~Julia DarkRose Ray

%d bloggers like this: