Manannán
Sucked down through the lungs of the dead am I The water, cold, dims my brain My mind it dies, nothing left but my trail of tears Which mingle with Manannán's Minions They drag me nearer And nearer Down do I sink His Isle towers mighty I see no water My soul be free Gates all silver, slowly open I am greeted coldly still I stroll Through the grassy plain He beckons me through meadows warm And orchards with boughs of apples gold Horses, white, run rampant through the plains At last I see him clothes in red A golden torch around his neck On a throne of stone does sit Manannán Mac Lir Lord of the ocean, Lord of the Sea His pale green eyes they stare at me Suddenly I realize with dread I have succumbed, that I am dead My soul be all that's left of me My soul be all that's left of me My soul be all that's left of me Must I stay here for an eternity
Submitted by NecroLord — Jun 23, 2026
Summoned here I have been From a land of war To this place of peace Why am I here I know not Yet familiar be this place My mind does drift away To a time not long ago Details just out of reach Some sense tells me I have been here before Before when I cannot recall Battles and Blood cloud my memories Many men fell, Yes fell many men But their names I cannot tell Nor their purpose in my story The air smells sweet here On this plain full of apples Cattle, many roam the fields Their ears of a hue like winter sunset Proud must be the Righ of this place To possess such wealth Some sense tells me I have seen him before Before when I cannot recall Battles and blood cloud my memories Many men fell, Yes fell many men But his name I cannot tell Nor his purpose in my story I stroll through the grasses Bathed in the sunshine glorious The light makes the stream shimmer And so I wander to its banks Soothing is its babbling sound It relaxes my spirit As I stare at my reflection My senses tell me I have seen me before Before when I do now recall Mongá Mac Manannán bringer of battle And blood to Éire Many men fell, Yes fell many men Their names I now can tell And my purpose in their story
Submitted by NecroLord — Jun 23, 2026
Worn am I, drained of life Though this world of plenty be more than I deserve So much blood and slaughter Still stain my hands Once crimson, now crusted A sure sign of one damned Now I know that I've been here Many times before The harbinger of doom Knocking on the door Of the Gaedhil Who constantly deny and trample on the will of the Shidhe For at Maigh Turadh, I was Balor And at Tailteann, Eibher Fionn I choked the great King Cormac with my bones which were too strong Then I was Pádraig, the bringer of the boy god I forced the will of Árd Macha on the kingdoms of the south Now the man who has brought ruin on the family of Ború In response to the gold offerings placed to endorse the same Christ's rule And condemn his family's Bean Sidhe to the rocks near Ceann Cora The doom of the races of Éire for destroying the gods of yore
Submitted by NecroLord — Jun 23, 2026
Riding towards me on a stallion dazzling white Save his ears a fiery crimson Both of the otherworld, the king and his beast This be truly a land of plenty With nothing left to want He beckons me Unclean I feel Yet I go to him all dazzling pure Far beneath Man is this land of Mac Lír What a wonderous place is this magical Tír Our ancestors dwell here in relative peace Save the hurt caused to them knowing Their living destroy the Tuatha
Submitted by NecroLord — Jun 23, 2026
Mannanán questions Mongán: How goes it on the bounds of my Western shores Since the arrogant "Emperor of the Gael" Has met his fate and heard his Bean Shídhe wail? Such a death fitting For granting gifts of gold To the followers of the buachaill dé Elevating them to such haughty heights That they do deny us our inheritance His family be in ruins All save the spawn of Gormlaith A son of Ború Who did die broken too How Ironic! Rudderless be Éire's People Kings in Opposition all Their fall be at hand Soon will come their doom No one to lead you now Muintir na nGael None shall, for you have turned your backs On the gods of your people Strife shall reek havoc across your lands (For a millennium) And ye will stare into the very face of ye'er doom The Ollamh, File and Bard Are being driven from the courts of the kings By the followers of the young god Whose strength is on the rise It is not so easy to turn your back On those who have kept ye safe Solely for purchase of profit and power
Submitted by NecroLord — Jun 23, 2026
The silver horned stag does traipse the land From oceans to Mac Lír's sea Scanning the Land with the knowing eyes He sees Her scars and roars loud Echoing the pain She does feel As man does inflict itself on a tired land Her air does reek of noxious gasses Her hills be pits filled with dead waste Her forests and Her soldiers vanished Her temples once sacred now scarred Cár imigh an t-each? Cén áit na fir? Cé t-ionad lucht bronnta na taisce? Cén t-áithreabh na fleitithe? Conas aoibhneas na bruÍnne a athghabháil? Tá said marbh "The Gael has brought ruin to my sister Only Fódhla and Banbha still stay unscarred By the savage greed has Ériú been battered If She dies Her sisters will fade I have cursed ye in the hope of ye changing I one day hoped to show ye true life I hoped one day to walk as man among ye Instead of hiding in the hills as a stag I ride I grieve for ye Tuatha d'Éireann I grieve for ye my Sisters' whores Who sell and rape yourselves daily To the highest bidder ye will be sold First boy-child, then gold, now immortality How can I still want to intervene? For one thousand years ye have behaved the harlot Killing sacred white animals with ears scarlet Now on hills as a sheep in the company of wolves I still do wonder how I can fill the gulf The void that became when you denied your gods You pitiful Irish are now my lost cause"
Submitted by NecroLord — Jun 23, 2026
And ye do fade to a faint red hue staring down, veiled in darkness. How does it feel now to be the same as me ? Feeling loneliness and doubt in this world full of hell. Wondering if you'll e'er return to your former glorious self. I feel your despair for it echoes within my soul. Fear not, like my ancestors of old. As we both know it be just for a time, a time short. Unlike the misery they endured from Gall both white, grey and black. Survived we did, but mere shadows scarce enough to shade the lives of Gaedhil. They dance to new dances and prey on new gods. As we abandoned ours - so did they theirs Our sentence was the Gaedhilic twillight. Theirs I fear be Death.
Submitted by Infernal Flame — Jul 05, 2026
One hundred days or one hundred years? I cannot tell how long I've been here Sampling delights of his kingdom bright Far beneath the waves White blossoms fall down from the tree I feel it, He does beckon me "One more time my dear old friend To go back and make amends For the constant wrongs that plague the land Go once more. Deal them Doom's hand You did leave the world as Mael Mórdha So you shall return as Diarmúid Mac Murrough" My heart does sink, yet I sharpen my blade One last time I leave from this peaceful glade To doom those to which I depart Back to Éire i go with a heavy heart
Submitted by NecroLord — Jun 23, 2026