Foretoken
Album • 2020
Something’s not right There’s another inner voice in my head!? I can’t shake this dread, That within this snowy serenity lays an ominous portent My family is here: wife, daughter, and newborn son, To witness my rest and reflection on what I’ve done Weary and strained I over drank to create self-prescribed silence In this seemingly silent boreal wilderness of the Northwest I’ve been racked by unexplained bouts of a kind of psychosis My attempts to dispel these deranged hallucinations, all useless Sensing my tension, my wife suggested we all take a stroll in the snowfall Snow steadily fell around us as we ventured further into the forest Although my family was with me I felt faraway, lost between the trees Then, I saw it there, in the gloom, concealed behind the conifers Skin pale, eyes glowing blue, gaze fixed on me and my family Paralyzed, I asked my wife, do you trust me? Then please run with me and hide Panting, I nervously started scanning for the approaching monster lit by moonlight Confused, I elucidated to my wife that something was stalking us from a distance And he started crying… Soon they’ll be devoured!!! My son’s wails would give us away They’ll all become the prey!!! My son had to be silenced… so I reached for a stone… I’m sorry… What’ve you done!? She said You’re overwhelmed by this snow-born insanity, it’s made you violent My family is here… wife, daughter, and obedient son, Here to witness the reckless actions of what I’ve done… They were tearful and strained, so I shared the peace bestowed with my son’s silence The cold consumed me and my skin slowly turned to grey I felt my humanity fade away, replaced by a singular philosophy… to feed on flesh!
Submitted by Grave666 — Apr 26, 2025
Recollections of my days are becoming blear, Or maybe it’s the blood loss…? I recall when the idea first crystalized, The fatuous endeavor before we inevitably die The toil, the tragedy, the momentary triumphs; Humbled under the heel of time Studying sorcery I found way to survive, My soul entrusted to beast and bird, both buried under an oak Unburdened by mortality my morality decayed Whatever or whomever I desired I’d just simply take Victim of my own conceit, I was caught, shackled, and in defeat, With sorcery ensured hundreds died; brutally, before being bound and pacified When efforts of execution failed to deliver me to death, I was immured by Marya Morevna Besieged by darkness, rats, rot, and irony; My prison was a poetic reminder of a disadvantage of immortality Twelve chains restrained my neck, hands, and feet Ten years of isolation, while I wailed and screamed Then one day, my hoarse pleas of perdition, were finally answered A man named Ivan, unlocked my cell, and I was given water Revitalized, the sturdy restraints holding me were easily broken, and bust Marya’s army would perish and she’d be my bride until the day she died Conjuring my power my rage became a tempest manifest The warrior princess and her army in route step, Would be destroyed; slaughtered, by both whirlwinds and thunderstorm Bol'she nikogda… Bol'she nikogda… Bol'she nikogda!!! Then one day I was astonished to see, the young man Ivan attempt a rescue, foolishly Three warnings followed by three attempts, and I dismembered him; disposed in the briny currents She escaped, again!? Tracking their trail, I was surprised to see, Ivan!? Though I dismounted and had approached cautiously Their steed suddenly bucked, striking my head violently Stunned, and beaten; burned, my ashes were distributed and dispersed Enraged yet alive, my soul still separated; I couldn’t die… Eventually I resurrected and returned to my castle I continued my life of hunting… Some trophies chose to stay, some not, no one left Except Vasilisa who showed true fondness… I witlessly shared the safekeeping of my soul Someone smashed my door, a rescue? I’ve dealt with these before A swordsman, named Bulat, claimed he would take my life Dismayed when his strikes failed to fell me Vasilisa took my side, and I felt an egg crack on my back Sharp agony overtook me and I fell to the floor Reinstated with mortality my constitution deteriorated Bulat and Vasilisa gone, my blood flowed onto the floor Victim of my own conceit, I was callous, stubborn, and recalcitrant With sorcery delayed when I’d die, undignified, ultimately forsaken and ostracized
Submitted by Morgoth — Apr 26, 2025
Rage! Boundless and beautiful, guide my dory Sing! Those who’re Stygian-bound! Sing, the song of my glory! Scream your eternal laments and ready yourselves for Hades’ embrace Your corpses creating a banquet for canine and crow Oh my thanks to you Calchas for freeing me from my prison on Skyros The Aegean ocean air fills my lungs as I stand amidst other Achaeans My Hephaestus -forged armaments clenched, ready like reeds to etch my name in history My mother tells me, the immortal goddess Thetis, That two fates will bear me on to the day of death If I hold out here and I lay siege to Troy, my journey home is gone, but my glory will never die… But if I voyage back to the fatherland I love, my pride, my repute, my glory dies… The Moirai have fated my decision decided, a grander trophy: immortality in aristeia Nine years have passed… and many have fallen beneath my blades Twelve cities razed by the Achaean army The Trojan efforts crushed before our coalition Our victories unabated until routed by hierarchical hubris Apollo punished us with plagues and maladies A sacrifice was made, and my confidence betrayed: Chryseis for Briseis Bastard! The disrespect, the folly, the myopia! If Agamemnon cannot see, my absence shall be his and others’ misery Patroclus, my empathic friend, couldn’t bear witness or acquiesce Donning my linothorax he impersonated me and was met with fatality Even Olympus heard my howls of rage In an instant everything was taken from me… I herded my friend and Mymidon kin to Hades… Then suddenly, my Mother appeared tearful with new armor and shield in hand Moirai be damned, I’ll take Hector’s life with my own two hands My Hephaestus -forged armaments clenched, ready like reeds to etch my name in history My rage beckons me, deserving Trojan-culprits… That their blood and pain echo well after their deaths Fodder discarded and Scamander incensed I standing before the murderer and exclaim, I only wish my fury would compel me, to cut away your flesh and eat it raw For what you’ve done, no one can keep the dogs off of your head… The battle now over, Hector was slain yet my rage remained Aghast, Troy watched as I tethered their champion behind my chariot Triumphantly circling its walls dragging desecrated corpse in tow The peace of Elysium this man will never know His cunning father crept his way into our camp Priam tearfully pleaded for his son’s body’s return He explained Peleus will one day come to mourn me too… Crestfallen father, you’re permitted to leave with your son’s remains Hector and I are both preordained to doom We men are wretched things…
Submitted by The Void — Apr 26, 2025
Freed from Morpheus my consciousness returns to a vacant darkness My anger consumes all concern as I recall the madness born of eventide Though through these pages there appears conviction in this arrant fiction Her sanity though seemingly lost, may have found a revelation “Under Samhain’s sky through both forest and mire, follow the path by will-o'-the-wisps’ fire, to cave housing Veil for both young, still, and tired… Tech Duinn” Though maybe this mystery will lead me… This forest is so funereal with skeletal thickets squeezing moonlight and even sound from the surroundings And a heavy mist obscures the ground and climbs to the canopy My imagination stoked by either fear or folly There’s a faint hint of hymns from afar Forsaking rational I follow the flickering lights and melody Through both forest and mire I found myself at an eldritch cave The hell mouth beckons and terrifies, yet I’m compelled to proceed The air is heavy with haze creating a canvas for luminaries In its recesses, a dolmen gate somehow untouched by time And amidst the arch an ethereal rift shimmers beckoning me forth Through the haze I’m consumed by a chilling comfort Cloaked in black and bone a figure donning a deer skull approached me He said, “Ignore the fires, for there áes sídhe gather and will lead you astray But’s these distractions pale compared to cŵn annwn which will hunt you Stay too long and the Veil will fade with Samhain’s sky” Amidst the canvas of darkness I see shades surrounding a campfire Chthonian figures singing songs of sorrow to a solemn figure She sat silently and slowly her phlegmatic gaze met my eyes Tir Na Nog… is so close… I attempted to argue yet my fervent words failed to persuade In a moment of stillness a horrifying baying broke the silence The cŵn annwn are hunting… I can’t stay any longer Oddly the ominous howls grew strangely softer… Their ember-like eyes burned bright in the blackness Paralyzed, I witnessed three pale beasts approach me followed by their master The figure cloaked in black “Under Samhain’s sky through both forest and mire, follow the path by will-o'-the-wisps’ fire, to cave housing Veil for both young, still, and tired… Tech Duinn” Though maybe this deity never meant to aid me … To me, to my house, you shall all come after your deaths…
Submitted by MetalElf — Apr 26, 2025
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