Cries of Blood and Hate
Read words in the trees. Every branch is wisdom. The blind can’t guide, and men created the word hell.
Submitted by Pestilence — Apr 23, 2025
Each branch is part of the trunk of a tree. No drop by itself can form the rain. I have seen fields grow and villages burn. I have seen children’s births ...and mothers cry. Seasons have passed one after another and I grew older with them. But the broken equilibrium is the major danger for the clan. A new rite of vision, meditation. Perhaps the spilled blood next to the river helps me. Meditate, meditate, close the circle and narrow it. Meditate, meditate, follow the way of the runes. To see the ravens fly in the distance, knowing they will never return. To break the word of honour and the oath. The treason is the greatest offense and most punished in my code. The dance of the runes over a human by a treason in the clan. A fire crosses my interior, the same that elders told. My face changes its expression, the wind spreads the scent. Broken swords at a bonfire's light. The scent is in the atmosphere like the wet wood was. Sing to the earth, traitor! Plea to it before this stone what took you to commit this? Was it greed and egoism? To see the ravens fly in the distance, knowing they will never return. Broken swords at a bonfire's light. The scent is in the atmosphere like the wet wood was.
Submitted by Nargaroth — Apr 23, 2025
The land that saw our birth cries with blood and hate while its sons swear revenge. Brothers, who betrayed their promise. (now look with fear, the sword that was of theirs). Take the ground that spawned you salutes to the north, the south, to the east and the west, to the sun and the stars, and open the circle while you live. My sign remains until the end of times, lineage of the forgotten in balance with the infinite cosmos, taking the word of the gods. The past regains life in each oration and rite and in each drop of blood. A sky full of stars that doesn’t forget. A river of eternal sap that hates the human race. Centuries after centuries the belief has vanished. The fire that lead many others has weakened. I only see destruction and desolation in the path of man. Take the ground that saw our birth, cry with hate and rage while we swear revenge against brothers who broke their promise (and who look at our sword with fear) a down mist but not as in times of plenty.
Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Apr 23, 2025
Broken, the flame in the sky sea and river are blood. Now the clan is united looking at each other, and other. The guide raises his hand and his cane, his face reflects the wisdom of years. The wind blows and he commands to begin the sacrifice, and the stones get illuminated in that moment. All men unite their hands, elders and youth. It is the same blood which runs in their veins. "I do it for the earth, for the sun and the moon, for the fire, and the rain that has to come". Each father and son, feel the event. Respect and pride, while he sings. Oaken shields defend, even the mountains. In each season, their roots get stronger. Many guides will see birth and death, Only the fire of the gods will endure in time.
Submitted by Warbringer — Apr 23, 2025
This track is instrumental.
A saying tells that offering your hand to your enemy Is like giving meat to the wolf, and to take it back you will have to bit as its pack of wolves too. They are those, who come in peace, civilized ones from distant lands, who burn our lands with the cross and destroy our identity, until nowadays. Fight, fight with tooth and nails. Defend, protect your own territory. Crush, the yoke that oppresses you. Lineage, lineage is what you have. When my eyes are blood, hatred from the deepest. Their condition doesn't matter, only their destruction or mine. Once I dreamed that all stars were clans, free and united. That the steel of ones, was the swords of the others, and the wheat of the others was the food of those. It was a part of the change, a strange religion infected all. My friends were my enemies. Take swords and lances, invoking the ancient spirits, speak with them, blood rains in the fields.
Submitted by BloodShrine — Apr 23, 2025
I came from far away to talk to you, monolith, to pray and tell you a story of years ago. I have crossed rivers, rain and cold. Fifteen years ago, all was different in my village, a little community with its autonomy. One day, a man came from other village. Told us about invasion of other people with breastplates and short hair. Under their banners, an eagle, Rome. All people was preparing, making weapons and swords, This was the path of real essence. Raising palisades and defences. Even us, the children, were ready. Some moons later, we descried a large army, Well structured, which advanced slowly. Alarm was given, and all got prepared. The army stopped and formed a strange group. Men entered at war, protected by some spears. The rest resisted inside the village. All who I ever met fought for their lives whole families screamed in sweat and blood. It was the end, we were the slaves of an empire. The leader was killed and the wise elders too. Those who were children, we kept growing, it's sad to see the misery where it didn't exist before. Old people died by sorrow, their grief tears fall from sky. Be a mercenary at the order of invader Or to die like a stranger in your own land. One day, I escaped running. I run and run, all as I was able. And I became an exiled to tell you a story, monolith.
Submitted by Cyberwaste — Apr 23, 2025
This track is instrumental.