ALL HALLOWS (Erotic Tales of Old Souls told in the Horrific) vol I

by Pantherion Prime w/ Friends StarChild Kimela, Puss'n Boots & Petal Fatale

  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

      $7 USD  or more




this a compilation of some of th darker pieces I have done either as a solo artist or as collaborations with others. I decided that the album release date would be on ALL Hallows Eve, the night before ALL Saint's Day, when the ancestral spirits communicate and to play and hence the title is not your stereotypical Halloween album for it is not motivated nor inspired by the commercial idea of the holiday.

I call this genre Erotic Horror. it is similar to what I ALL so call Esoteric Poetry. it is mix of sexuality and spirituality that is very prevelant in many of my scribes. some of its ideas and views may be interpreted as being influenced by alternative ideas.


released October 31, 2014

appearing on this album with me (Pantherion Prime) are StarChild Kimela Ezechukwu, Puss'n Boots, and Petal Fatale.



all rights reserved


Pantherion Prime Riverside, California

Pantherion Prime is a pen name of mine...

it is an dentity... a personality that I use to scribe...
and describe the spiritually erotic notions and annotations
of my works in esotericeand rotic poetry.

I AM a multi-disciplinary artist who creates through sculptures through
poetry and music that could... and would reflect
the very essence of me... as a matriarchal man.
... more

contact / help

Contact Pantherion Prime

Streaming and
Download help

Redeem code

Track Name: Pantherion Prime featuring StarChild Kimela - THE WICKED LICK IT DIALOGUE (ATales of Erotic Horror) - Pantherion Prime featuring StarChild Kimela
StarChild exits a limousine. She has agreed to meet Lord Prime at his home tucked away in a discreet place of seclusion and security… his mansion is a veritable fortress… covered by a dark aura… that conceals a light.

PRIME: So… did you enjoy the ride? and Raul… was he… hospitable?

STARCHILD: Yes, your driver was very nice!

PRIME: Good… good! did you happen to have any of the champagne?

STARCHILD: (slurring)Yes… it was quite delicious and different…

PRIME: (chuckle)… oh its just a little special elixir of mine… meant to awaken you… to ALL… of your senses.

STARCHILD: Yeah… well … I am feeling a little warm ... do you mind if I remove my shawl?

PRIME: Oh... No… no… not at all

STARCHILD: So… what is this place? It’s vague from the outside… and so far away.

PRIME: This… this is my lair! This… is the Den of Pandera… where ALL of my magickal children… the verbal potions and spells such I speak… are conceived and born.

STARCHILD: Well it’s awfully dark… but I do like all of the candles…and the smell… it’s so… so relaxing… and what… what is that?

PRIME: That… is where I’ll bathe you
STARCHILD: Bathe me? But… I thought we were going to just talk?

PRIME: (beaming) And we shall talk my darling … but you must know by now that you… and I… we speak another language than other people… and in many different tongues… ALL… without… ever… saying… a word.


PRIME: Yes… of course we do! Just follow me… and I’ll show you. I will teach you the dialect… the vowels and consonants… the verbs and the nouns.

STARCHILD: What are you doing?

PRIME: Why I’m just… sitting you down to remove your shoes… just… relax

STARCHILD: OK… wow… this is so soft… like clouds… like it’s suspended in air.

PRIME: Yes! (in a transformed voice) Like heaven!

STARCHILD: Now what are you doing?

PRIME: (pursuasively) I’m going to blindfold you now love… don’t be afraid… you said you wanted to talk… and so now I’m preparing you for our very deep conversation.

STARCHILD: (trembling) But… I can’t… I can’t see you with my eyes covered.

PRIME: Shhhhh! (cooing)relax… you’ll be able to see me just fine… (transformed voice) with ALL of your other senses… I need you to trust me… ok?

PRIME: Lie down now… relax… and just lift your hips up just a little bit so I can quickly… get you out of that skirt

STARCHILD: ok… maybe… maybe I should go…

PRIME: (transformed voice) Maybe… you should stay… besides… No cabs! it’s too late… and my driver is gone now. I took the liberty of giving him the night off

STARCHILD: (mumbles) I can just call a cab...

PRIME: There is no reception here… no cabs… and besides… you don’t even know where you are… and this place doesn’t exist to the outside world …. How hush… and open your mouth! (pops a finger food into her mouth)

STARCHILD: (still blindfolded) Ummmm…. What is that? It’s so sweet and juicy

PRIME: its called Durian… now taste this!

STARCHILD: ummm… what is that… tart but yummy!

PRIME: its called Rambutan…. And this… how about this?

STARCHILD: YES! YES… I love this one… (demanding)What is IT!

PRIME: This one… this one... is me... licking your lips!
You want more?

PRIME & STARCHILD: (moans)… yes yes…… (both moan it out)

PRIME: Counts

STARCHILD: (moans)

PRIME :(grunting smacking)

STARCHILD: (moans voice morphing into a beast herself)
Interlude into dark ecstasy and finally climax

STARCHILD: You are a beast you know… but such a beautiful… Beast!

Track Name: DE JA VU - Pantherion Prime

I've seen your
face before
been to this
place before...
known your soul before
you are indeed to me...
a haunting de ja vou.

three shades of me
of you mingling in
a mix of whites and greys.
three shapes you
in a site of misty me.

de ja vou... do you remember me?
de ja vou... do you recall when we
1st cultivated this sight
this sound... out by the sea?

a de ja vou... a view of me... a
spew love so long ago... that
I had thought
might be for we forever
and we'd never fade to black
if only... I and you
my lovely de ja vou...
would let... it be.

you said it's better that
we let go of these
lasting past life memories
but I swear I cannot
forget you... I miss you de ja vou...

you so unalike now
than any other... this
judge of every other love
too pain-filled for me... to see..
a distilled pull of what
to me was once... so much
of what was once... so rich to me.

a de ja vou... the sentiment
of you... so full of such
so full of what was once
this... old story that was told
a lost epic of my own
this stolen epithet
of my... inner experience

this now only rich in
what comes rushing in
again in this my lonely live
of life without thee by the
shore of me.

de ja vou... are you
remembering me
and that beautiful time of
we so way back when?
so... way back when I knew
that I could breathe
and live with you
beneath the ocean's roar
forever and ever
and ever... de ja vou?

I used to submerge with you
back then... you were the
mermaid sleeping

I but a simple initiate
gone down
the twenty-eight steps
each reach to next
the levels of my temple
by the sea.

ahh... de ja vou... don't you
remember me?
I gone down to drown myself
in the lovely deep of thee.
an entry of the thrust of me
into the mystery of this thy
beautiful world... of words?

the best days of me
ALL ways were spent
as a night with you...
a de ja vou... the read of me.
a ride of tide... into
that life which I used
to dream of in this deep.

this... see beneath
of my submerge
I to but be... a re-emerge
into the sublime.... after the
bubbling baptismal of my

and my tones
my bubble and
my groans thus
only loaned to me
in the vision of you...
my… de ja vou.

Pantherion Prime from PRIME Scribes © 2014
Track Name: featuring StarChild Kimela & Puss'n Boots on sensuous sounds - SHE WHO RIDES THE BEAST (the Erotic Remix) - Pantherion Prime
she's not like other girls... her world of words
so enticing as to
awaken me… from the deep, deep slumber of my sleep
her verbal ways… are so inviting... her prose so… decisively phrased

so excitingly placed and poised
line by line… to pause… only in the intellectually explicit…
sexual is the erotic content in the liturgy of her ritual deeds
thus scented with an incense seep… that I call… poetry… her
flow of prose… made within the handy reach
of the peripheral visions of her… each and every frame of mind

spilling into mine as a chilling a verse... of such deliciousness…
so delighting as is… the very thought of her.
dressed in the robes of purple… and strobe lights
she….in all her illicitness... the spit of… oh so tasty’s... fiery spirit... the insert
of a few curses in the gap between her teeth
her speech perched in the split of her… luscious lips... the

kisses of her of crimson is... this… oh so blissfully sweet.
and indeed She is to me my little harlot…. my Scarlet Woman
who with this… oh so nasty... mastery… of the grip…
the tightening of her lips and wiry fingers’ kneads… she working… so
untiringly in the stoking … and the poking
and the prodding and her pouting… round the hot embers
of the open mic of me…

in spoken word… she the… oh so… everlasting and seductive
demand of my understanding
in the lyrical… suck of such
and such an opening… leaks the ink of erotic think… of she
the… flowing ‘round the floating pen of
my conundrums… of the rhythmic ...drums set… to the… oh
so... sticky beat of me.

she is the... jack off of and spill of the plied mouth rock… the reply that
keeps me forever hard… in the ever loving flip of sing of song
patterns… the tattered strip of the wig from me …
she is the gift… with the whip of hips of oh so… tricky see?... so…honestly... and
truthfully... I must admit it that it takes a truly special kind of one for me, I think... to
even make me crazy like this

to say insane is not enough... to but play rough
is just enough… the full expense of what is my… mental touch...
its… more than just pure insanity... more than vanity… to take me so… far
outside the realms of the desert of… her Star...

the real… reality… leaving me… sensually uncaged…
untamed and raging at the gates of this perverted mind and body… so
hopelessly stolen away… converted to her dark side…I
taken to the... ridden brink of my emboldened
and unbridled... lift of soul… up! up! into the old
ancient know of… flaming spirit… no minimalism in the animism of me…

just the thrust of… pent up aggression
and lust released in the aftermath of the fencing
in of the sensuality of true of heart… of 1 part man and
1 part god… of my consistency
the rest was made of the wail and assail of her wall… the ALL-Beast…

to eat the meat of my Revelation... not 666 but the revolutionary concept
of the sexual context of 1872
and I want him set free there to play all day with her… uncaged… unleashed… allowed to
be… and roam and pillage the villagers of her city streets… of her

reckless abandon… of me…
riding that ass like Jesus in the rites of Dionysus
hitched the moon rise of Diana in the pitch black Nights of Pan… and I want him
drunk with wine… punch drunk with the…funk of her
nectar… sweet… I want him only to be the lover… of her keep
and the protector of she… the lonely
anti-hero destined to receive
the holy mantle of the renegade lector-priest… that

defector of temple of temperate things… the mountain climber
up! up!into the infinite
to but touch the rune of the necromancer
up! up! into the climes… of her steep inclines… that…

confederate motherfucker and defector of crimes…. committed against
the empirical states of altered consciousness…
the pull of dragon tales of a hazy heat of
what it is that bears her… fiery flame…
the mantric name games that lead
from the straddle up on the scriptures of the Tantras
to the positions of the Kama Sutras thus piled up on the top of me… the meet the…test of… She-Who-Rides-the-Beast.

Pantherion Scribes © 2013
Track Name: THE BOTTOM OF HIS BEAST - Pantherion Prime featuring Petal Fatale)

beloves him

Her unfathomable subterranean lover

Her most acute downfall is the obvious fragility
he instigates within her calm

for he bears the scent of her mortal threat and pays alms

to the stone fact that she would literally die
without his lyrical breath upon her nakedness

her dependency has become renowned
within an attentive audience of beautiful devotees

She must have been born to bear the lesions
he often leaves clawed into the cranial of her brains

her emotions
constantly bleeding out
at the very thought of his scratched approach


Her true nemesis

A sexually driven retribution for those who have dared to love him
against the very will of any form of fate and all odds

It was as if he had laid in wait
to pounce upon her willing heart

and she sought the perilous beast in him
to devour all that she ever was

for she
was meaningless without the blister
of his rub on the back of her heels

sweetnesses and innocences
were the coveted dishes she had to serve

and he swallowed them whole as if they were his last feast
before a planned death

each time
Tearing and ripping a little bit more of her away from herself

She longed to be dragged into the bottomlessness of his darkness

Thrown on her back… hands secured
Ankles crossed… tied ….and pulled until
her toes were above her beautiful head

Her flooded flower completely exposed to his ravenous liking
ready to receive the hardness of his erratic thrust
skin to skin
skull to skull
sweat to sweat
and all the throttled fucking
one sacred whore could beget

Her swollen breasts
and her ass cheeks
drenching wet

slow licks of red tongues
perked nipples and neck

nails dug deep into the flesh of his back

she hid but
her pussy scent
was tracked

as his lips smacked

and there she laid
spread wide for his take

like a smorgasbord of spiritual offerings
just for him
and only him

because he was her Priest
He who marked her with the divide of
the 3 sixes of his heart multiplied
to equal

Her Beast…….


she is his... subterranean Beauty
the center of an Etruscan
jewelry piece... a treasure
that he... selectively... and possessively... adores.

and though he is but a ... crustacean Beast
to some... he is the Grim Reaper of her keep... he the
lowly bottom feeder... who never sleeps

although thought of by some as ugly is beloved of she.

he who... moves and is still... he who's lust... is more than
able enough to will to reach... beneath the surface
to the deep sweep... of her ocean floor... and such.

according to the ancient lore of him
he the phantasm's gore... the magickal moor that touches
the moon lit core of the world of her... his oyster.

she... the viscous secrete now cloistered
in the... dip and peak... that with lips... he strips of these... the lovely leak... of nacre... the... black mother-of-pearl.

the bespeak of her writes the milky white
of her sweet notions... the secrete of the potions of
ecstatic joy in healthy portions of her employed.

energized enthusiasm... inserted like a toy
in the spasms of the erotic... he tossed in the ways
of the orgasmic flee... of she.

and he thus nicks and taps with the tips of his
prickly parts her heart
in the rhythmic wave of she... his natural slave.

she the sub... that admittedly and
willingly gave to him of herself... she to ever be the
holy servant of this antagonist and never leave his side.

he the subterranean top... of she who holds the
sole role of the protagonist of he... to be... submitted to the blindfolded of this... begotten trust.

and there she lies... with him and in him in the darkness
as this unforgotten truth... expressed
in the spread... of limbs of her...

she... so stretched to the limits of this
underwater cavern and pier and... atmosphere
of the little death cum through unrepentant sins of him.

and it is there in the
steep penetration... that he the monstrous agent hath
now slowly gleaned... the every... measure of.

and he drinks and eats
the very dregs of her excrete
ripped clean like teeth... with that...

hard rock entity... the sharp razor that bleeds the
amorous pits and pores that in his body armory fit...that
doth feed... upon the squeeze and tease of swollen breasts.

and every bit if it seeks its entry
inch by inch... until via the whole of her
enlivened is in deed without a question simmering...

is what at best is nondescript but still is
her crimson shimmering with
what the knife of the knight has left.

and by her demand he maddeningly
takes her soul... by her flight of resistance
he ignites the rite that thus

agitates her flesh...
and he rips and rapes... the patterned inscriptions
of spiritual her inhibitions... and yes!

before e'er she catches... her breath he snatches it back .
and he is... tainting and tasting her delicious victuals
from below the waist... to the nape of neck.

and she... spreads legs until the gush of pussy pours
along with the active ports of the active lactation of this immortal mystic meditation.

and with the import of... lick... and rub...
and suck he plugs... all of what rises up and falls
against her trembling cheeks.

and she is so lost... so tossed in the waves
these of ripples between... her pleasure and her pain
caught in the space between... her laughter and her cries.

and he tends to her every sigh
in the assemblage of her lifted thighs... as he tweaks her
great divide... with the clipped nipples of her thoughts... to peak

he the... top of her subterranean beauty... and she
the bottom... of his Beast.

Pantherion Speaks through Prime Scribes with Petale Fatale © 2013
Track Name: Pantherion Prime featuring Puss'n Boots - THE DAEMON AND HE

she hath cut me in half
so that... between the daemon and me
the two of us... hath no heart.
before e'en the conversation starts
they agree to see the
the truths that say wisely that... things
inevitably fall apart.
e'en in the matters of science
and art... love although absent hears
matters of lust in the distant cast
a word that... flatters and flutters
in the face of death... only because
there are no known
captives left... with anything less to
show for it.
no fine vehicle any more to show
for its dismemberment
in the fulfillment of the
prophetic mysterious that cums and goes.
and so it tears at the soul
in the aftermath.... that
was and is this path....
the laser light of what
forever hath been etched with the epitaphs of
laughter... she speaks of in the
clatter and clutter of sin filled thoughts
the lust set aloft with two fingers
caught in the mist of
the gentle whispers of softly moistened lips
that swell with the enlivenment
of the her ecstatic dance of necromancy
with which she eventually
invokes his name... with turn of hips.
with her lament flame of spells... she cuts him in half
and he... though still as of yet... now willing die
to let his shadow companion... the daemon live...
even if the other part of him is destined to be
driven to hell.

She loved him
To pith
To depth
Beyond death
She loved him........

She falls back into
From whence time
He first appeared
Onto her
Her flesh burned
Upon sight
Lust called out to her
Held her
She experienced
Within her winged lover
Perfect storm
All elements present
To conjure the tides high
To cause winds fierce
He breathed
A fire
Into her lungs
It was then
She began life
And then......
He cared for her
In ways
She's never known
A father
A friend
A lover
A brother
Her spirit knew
He had arrived
This would not keep
For her lover came
In form of part daemon........
Part human
The union
Never to be
She knew inevitably
He would need to return
From whence he came.....
A panic had arisen
She felt as if
Her death was imminent
She will not live without him
She cannot allow his love
To be another's
Not in this life
Or the hereafter
Not in hell
Nor heaven
Nor Earth
She belonged to he
And he unto her
Her sanity ceased......

She shall keep his heart
Under glass
Partake of its meat
So that she may
Consume his soul
Keep him within her vein
His love shall course
Throughout her
She hath cut him in half
So that.....between the daemon and he
The two of them
Hath no heart