Introduction:
“Death Pact” is my first foray into blending my original dark psychedelic music with my poetry. At its core is my poem “Visions of Death,” voiced and interwoven with soundscapes that bend toward the surreal and a dark psychedelic, experimental sound. This is the seed of what will become my project Vallis Mortis, but for now I’m releasing it under my name to share the experiment and the vision with you. It’s both track and text — a pact between sound and word.
“Death Pact” is my first foray into blending my original dark psychedelic music with my poetry. At its core is my poem “Visions of Death,” voiced and interwoven with soundscapes that bend toward the surreal and a dark psychedelic, experimental sound. This is the seed of what will become my project Vallis Mortis, but for now I’m releasing it under my name to share the experiment and the vision with you. It’s both track and text — a pact between sound and word.
Visions of Death
Mesmerizing black,
Shining brightly,
Hanging on tightly,
To the edge of life and death.
“Hang on,” I hear you cry.
But I ask why,
What if I want to die,
Can you save me from myself?
Come save me foolish redeemer,
Before I eat dinner
And die from food poisoning,
An ascent to the stars up above.
Slaves and whores, that’s all you are.
Death deceives you,
It comes in looking like a lamb
And steals you away.
It consumes the blood of the living;
It feeds off of us like parasites.
It takes us to unknown origins,
That are located in the middle of
Endless tunnels in the realm of surrealism.
And all of this makes me wonder,
Whether I stand with full vision,
Or whether I’m standing blind.
But I’m not blind,
I’m only left behind,
Behind a cross made with dogwood,
Watching a crucifixion —
Another death.
Shining brightly,
Hanging on tightly,
To the edge of life and death.
“Hang on,” I hear you cry.
But I ask why,
What if I want to die,
Can you save me from myself?
Come save me foolish redeemer,
Before I eat dinner
And die from food poisoning,
An ascent to the stars up above.
Slaves and whores, that’s all you are.
Death deceives you,
It comes in looking like a lamb
And steals you away.
It consumes the blood of the living;
It feeds off of us like parasites.
It takes us to unknown origins,
That are located in the middle of
Endless tunnels in the realm of surrealism.
And all of this makes me wonder,
Whether I stand with full vision,
Or whether I’m standing blind.
But I’m not blind,
I’m only left behind,
Behind a cross made with dogwood,
Watching a crucifixion —
Another death.
© 2025 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved. Written circa 1995.
Visions of Death was originally published on MyPoeticSide.com, September 8, 2024.
Visions of Death was originally published on MyPoeticSide.com, September 8, 2024.
Tittu
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Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: August 29th, 2025 13:11
- Comment from author about the poem: It’s time for some more Freaky Friday Frolics. This is Part 6 in an ongoing series titled The Birth of Tristan Robert Lange. Death Pact is a fusion of my poem "Visions of Death" with an original psychedelic score I composed. It’s both poem and track, spoken and sung, a haunting experiment that marks the first step toward my emerging project Vallis Mortis.
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Comments1
Congratulation Tristan for having the courage to try new things. Nicely done my friend.
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