Gwydion

Now, the ruler, the epic one of all Standing straight and tall Sits proud, on the wood throne Soon... Only memories and stone Now he stands, respected loved Leaning on is cane, ready to drew blood What is the use, if there is no one to fight? No one to foil plans, no brave knight Rain pours down, the grave you sit on Your eyes see nothing, all is gone Spirits passing, the sharp gaze Words, become a maze For you were brave and true Now your soul grew empty... Once full of ideals and plans But now you see, your wrinkled hands Howls of the brave rang in the wind Victorious the war was at end But this old warrior, will still stand… To fight once again, and walk to is forefathers’ land

Submitted by SerpentEve — Apr 26, 2025

Passing obscure vales of shadows By the wooded inland meadows Facing the green trails to the lake Sloping down by the trees awake Curious creatures of illusion; My brain is stunned in confusion In wind, sounds of solitude, singing; Heralds misfortunes proclaiming I am a harmonious one; I am a clear singer; I will indulge in feasting I am steel; I am a druid I will make wonderful cries; I am an artificer; I am a scientific one I am not a confused bard driveling I am a serpent; I am love When songsters sing a song by memory I love the trees, the protection above And a bard that composes, without earning anger; I love not him, that causes contention; He that speaks ill of the skillful shall not possess mead It's the fifth time, that we go to drink It's the sixth time, that we go to drink It's the seventh time, that we go to drink It's the eighth time, that we go to drink The rock wave-surrounded, by great arrangement Will convey for us a defense, from the enemy The rock of the chief, the head of tranquility The intoxication of meads will cause us to speak Like making light for the blind Like sharing clothes to the naked Like spreading buttermilk on the sands Like feeding fish upon milk Like reaching the sky with a hook Like roofing a hail with leaves Like seeking for ants in the heat Like an instrument of foolish spoil Like the retinue of an army without a head Like feeding the unsheltered on lichen Like ridging furrows from the country Like deprecating with the blood of thistles

Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Apr 26, 2025

Possessing the ultimate power Vultures surrounding waiting to devour The darkest, agonizing hour Enclosed in his reign, high from his tower The voice of the wind of an hour Granted him dominion and power High is, the virtue of the course High will be the gaiety of the old High is, the horn of the travelling High the crow in the evening High is, truth when it shines Higher when it speaks High is, my violent intent Higher if it comes against reason The sovereign chair Supreme ruler In earth and heaven In glade and bower High is, the elder wisdom High was the path to travel High is, the briskly-moving stream Higher, around the violent borders High is the swing of the sword High when it comes from the king High is the sovereign chair High, the wise one, that keeps it With his staff and his wisdom With his swift irruptions With his sovereign prince With his scriptural number With his red purple With his assault over the vale With his appropriate chair Amongst the retinue over the wall Let him be a conductor of fleets The billow cover over the shingle Let the land become ocean So that it leaves not the cliffs Let the old, renewed border fall! So that we can raise new blood Let it be fragile in like manner Fickle and dissolving

Submitted by The Void — Apr 26, 2025

A hundred servants surrounded A hundred kings made vows A hundred they are that went A hundred they are that came A hundred minstrels sang And he foretold of them A river follows the flow I know its length I know when it fades I know when it refills I know when it spills I know when it wanes I know which foundation There is under the sea This is the weird of a world old folk That not ‘til, the last link breaks Not ‘til the night is blackest The blood of Hengist awakes When the sun is black in heaven The moon as blood above And the earth is full of hatred This People tell its love Deep grows the hate of kindred Its roots take hold on hell; No peace or praise can heal it But a stranger heals it well Seas shall be red as sunsets And kings' bones float as foam And heaven be dark with vultures The night our son comes home I know the figure Between heaven and earth; When an opposite hill is echoing When devastation urges onward When the silvery is shining When the deli shall be gloomy The breath when it is black When it’s best that has been In the deep it will cease from ire; It will be excessively angry; In the deep, below the earth; In the sky, above the earth In change, eclipse and peril Under the whole world's scorn By blood and death and darkness The Saxon peace is sworn; That all our fruit be gathered And all our race take hands And the sea be a Saxon river That runs through Saxon lands Lo! Not in vain we bore him; Behold it! Not in vain Four centuries dooms of torture Choked in the throat, restraint

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Apr 26, 2025

Wind told me the enemy is riding through our lands We'll break their heresy with the power of the sword Rumors came, from Calchvynyd kingdom The beat of his heart, our steady rhythm Big helmet on his head, splittin’ image Disgrace in the south, a praiseworthy pillage Not yet, will those fields be green again Yesterday, blood of youth was shed Grave whose earth must hold, too deep a stain Forever we may speak, as we may tread The slaughter of thy foes About the country grows Like fire, it heats water Blood within veins, is hotter Crimson were the kin of Bender and great is his grace Gore surrounding the top of his head Let the cattle of the son of Idno come to Dyved And let no one dare not to come To pay a hundred cows I will give one calf Cattle would not run about without crimson faces Against the four-way-spreading conflagration Against the mighty rising Against the gore on flesh Against the dismal straining The battle in the Ford of Alclud, the battle in the Gwen A battle, the conjunction of tumult to them The battle on this side of gleaming guiding heart of oak A battle king Ulph violently spoke The battle of men, clash of sword, spear and horsemen A battle where the killing spree began The battle between Bernician and Rhegedian A battle that made one King, the demon The battle is the resting place of corpses A battle of joy, by the raven forces

Submitted by Corpse Defiler — Apr 26, 2025

I have travelled, the earth I wondered, I encircled I slept in a hundred islands I have dwelt in one hundred forts Is God in human image made birth? There was a calling on the Creator Until when the eternal should deliver The gates roll back, far within People were made, remade and made again By the exhumed hearts, the trembling men The Lord answered them Through language and elements Take the forms for the principal trees Arranging yourselves in battle array Of sages, in the primitive world Between the knees of kings Scattering spears not keen From heaven when came With pain at his hand, traced The blood of men, up to our waist With my sword, spotted with blood In the presence of kings, we judge! With my brothers, the great trees We march together, hearts will freeze The oak, quick moving Life furze, to the combat The alder-trees, the head of the line The elm, with its retinue Not from a mother and father was I made As for creation, I was the making Of nine forms of elements Of the fruit of fruits From the fruit of god, from the beginning Of primroses and flowers of the hill From blooms of woods and trees From the essence of soil, was I made Of the earth, of an earthly course Of the mountain ice, and ice wind From water of the ninth wave Of the trees, of the old and wise roots Those whom he had made

This is Gwydion! I’m the sword in hand I’m the shield in battle I’m the firm steps ahead I’m the armor wall I’m the screams of death I’m the courage of all I’m the boiling blood I’m the one that made you crawl Born of trees, carved in skin Echoes through his own, heretic sin Written tales, secrets in the breeze The right and wrong, brought him to his knees Single combat, steady, strong blow From mace, sword and pole-axe, long ago Shame rises, expand the borders’ kingdom At dawn, the pain, hears wishes of wisdom Where twisted, round the barren oak Clung through, the singing of an Englyn Perched high on the tree, utter and spoke Lured away, shifting the change within For 25 years, we wandered the land Wise men say, only fools rush at hand Proud of his roots, the warrior within Forever loyal will stand Cunning, skilled and might sin We are Gwydion Riding Melyngar A Warrior never quits Rides to the end A Warrior never quits The Warrior reason: to stand

Submitted by MetalElf — Apr 26, 2025

Changed were the elements Like night into day, irrelevant When came the gloriously-free Ercwlf chief of liturgy Madawg, the joy of the wall Madawg, before he’s great fall It was a fortress of abundance Games and society, substance Hear now the Song of the Dead In the North by the torn berg-edges They that look still to the pole Asleep by their hide-stripped sledges Song of the Dead in the South In the sun by their skeleton horses Where the warrigal whimpers And bays through the dust of the sear River courses Desolate warriors, weary from battle, light fires Warmth seeps into cold bones, yet offers no solace The earth shaking And the elements darkening The baptism is tremendous Among the hideous sub-regions Desolate warriors, weary from battle, light fires Warmth seeps into cold bones, yet offers no solace Weapons lay ready; the enemy always returns at dawn But what good is battle without hope? Only death wins Hear now the Song of the Dead!

Submitted by Morgoth — Apr 26, 2025

Burst into the battle, riding Like two animals, charging I’m a part of this brutal beast Brave as one, united we feast It broke out with matchless fury The rapid vehement fire Him we praise above the earth Fire, the fiery meteor of the dawn His path is like a water-course Thy rage in the chief streams The dawn smiles, repelling gloom Returning to the old places At dawn with violence At every meet season At the meet season of his turnings At the four stages of his course Engulfed in madness final prayer A horse will gallop through the air The horse's biggest crime To gallop high, while blind Into the madness of what he sees: A bloodied kingdom that cannot leave The beauty of death, always stuck between The horse stands like a knight on guard Wind plays across his fine hairs, hard Two enormous worlds, like eyes sting His mane spreads like the mantle of a king The horse's biggest crime To gallop high, while blind

Submitted by SerpentEve — Apr 26, 2025

Pewter mug clunk, with metallic hard clamor Happiness that rides, announcing drunken men The tips of their tongues, singing songs of glamor Sweeping and killing, of an empty mind again A final mug of amber ale, is planned Roars at distance, a heavy burp sound Before the marching horde sweeps the land The intruder suffers through sword... Proud! Ale, mead and wine Crack open old tales Ale, mead and wine From the barrel, pours details May Maelgwn of Mona, be smitten by mead From the foaming mead horns, pure liquid indeed Mead distilled, praise the sparkling, drunk of joy Which the bees collected and do not enjoy Free Elphin from exile, arrested, confined The man who gave me, ale, mead and wine And the great princely steeds, strong and possessed Elphinian knight of mead, late be thy time to rest Burn the day in fired up thirst That erases the feel of emotions stink Hidden inside of a curdling drink The provocative of the drunkard, is drunkenness Stunned he stand And stood? A strength, not from him Swirling on the head The tipsy king Stumbles his way Through the ancient hall He slices to victory Let it be brought from the cell Let it be brought before kings Ale, mead and wine Empty heart and mind Ale, mead and wine From a jug grow a spine

Submitted by MetalElf — Apr 26, 2025

Rows of men, in restless lines Air still echoes, death signs Not yet flown, from emptied halls; Footsteps falter, crumble, crawls Steady are my horse’s hooves, as I spur him on The alder sprigs held high, on the left, at dawn Arawn rules Gehenna, by blood blessed Brân is your name, warrior of the shining crest Some of them were cast away On the fields of fight Because of holes torn in them By the enemy's might Eerie voices linger, last; Final choices, feared, now lost Devastation drains, renew Still bodies strewn-knotted knees Nor the high gods who ever lived my fight My enemy and hope; demons for fright A dispute breaks! The divine Amaethon Death within my grasp, planning aggression Silver scrolls of birch bark Record the roots of trees Sycamore; timeless oak Faceless king of a thousand years I shall not see a world that will be dear to me Summer without flowers Kin will be without milk Women without modesty Men without valor Captures without a king Woods without mast Sea without produce Wrong judgments of old men False precedents of lawyers Every man, a betrayer Every boy a reaver Son will enter his father’s bed Father will enter his son's bed Son will deceive his father Daughter will deceive her mother An evil time!

Submitted by Grave666 — Apr 26, 2025

From her breast, nectar of kings Ancient land, ancient souls Signs and marvels, should bring Extended far beyond the mere controls The course of truth, perfect nobility Not heard from learned seers It will not be peace and tranquility A joint number in succession appears Vengeance kept On the people of Pharaonus Ten plagues paining Before their being drowned In the bottomless sea Buried in the sands In a crypt it stands The king of this land Known only sand In a time of plenty Until the year of twenty A god in heaven, sublime Long lost, in the sands of time Water to blood, with unusual cold Frogs abundant, they filled the rivers Gnats, bold and sharp, were arranged Next were devoured the fruits of the trees, by a crop of flies Murrain. Pestilence. Animals destroyed With a heavy disease The heaving reign of pharaohed seas Rule in bloodline of palm wine and embalming fluid of brine Sweating imposthumes The scars of ants Thunder, hail, fire and rain Destructive wind blasting Locusts, broad their ears Devouring flowers To be spoken of a terrible deep Like floating, black darkness About the night, the greatest affliction Throughout the land, firstborn, demise!

Submitted by Finntroll — Apr 26, 2025

The mind obscures The soul exists And time flows And consciousness is Was born to fight Neither living nor dying See what hides When the day closes its eyes I still feel Alive somehow I still feel Gutters that extinguish my heart I still feel Clouds watching over the trees I still feel Flames bring bad memories I still feel My hands among the universe I still feel Soul creation, impetuous answer I still feel The being that wields the hammer I still feel I still feel, I am real! Holding true to its own, the judge hammer Vortex of power, cunning livelihood Embarking on through a journey of fire He is prepared now, for the second death Healing inside When I see the rising vapors Healing inside When I see the frozen water drops Healing inside When I see thousands of land drawings Healing outside When I hear words of in meaningful echoes Healing outside Hear the secret memories, later stories Healing outside Hear the sound of the surface sea Healing outside Become aware of my surroundings Healing outside Hear my calling, blood boiling I still feel I'm healing outside I'm healing, when I feel a million stars pulsing I still feel I'm healing outside I'm healing, when I feel Nature's endless joy I still feel I'm healing outside I'm healing, when we dismantle the mysterious I still feel I'm healing outside I'm healing, when the weapon within, destroys me

Submitted by Grave666 — Apr 26, 2025

Vem milho-rei encontrar meu Amor Todos nesta eira celebramos com fulgor Pela noite fora cabaça de mão em mão Vinho com alegria aquece-nos o coração Nesta desfolhada está meu Amor Dançando descalços, vida de esplendor Vem sossegar minha fugar paixão Ribomba neste peito meu forte coração Espiga avermelhada mostra-me a tua cor Nesta desfolhada está o meu Amor Espiga avermelhada acalma a minha dor Nesta desfolhada está o meu Amor

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Apr 26, 2025