Collapse

In the darkest cracks of our psyche lies a place where nothing grows. Descendent of the intrinsic fires who's embers cease to glow. Enveloped in despair of political disrepair while we feast on the scraps from the table of the haves and have mores. There's nothing there! They dine in celebration, raising their glasses to the coming war. The iron fist of the sentinel smashing our hopes as it comes down, We abandon lofty hopes with our feet planted further in the ground. Who will muster the strength to rise? Who will muster the strength to rise? Arise! As the infantry line the streets scattered with the malnourished bodies of our young, the weeping word "Revolution" aching on our tongues. Take up arms brothers and sisters, now is the time to make the streets ours. As we've tried for years to find freedom we call it the struggle, they call it crime. Now is our time! Our time to die for freedom, to be inspired by the ghosts of our past. For red blood to stain black clothes, he pounding drums of the bombs blast! We will gnash our teeth and bathe in our own blood, and we will die laughing while we swim in the flood. Victory may only exist in our minds and in nature's oaken pantheon. When the lights finally go out the songs of our revolution will play on. The song of our revolution will play on...

Submitted by Grave666 — Apr 25, 2025

The subtle voice whispering the satin temptation of the wind, while our civilization lies in ruin we answer the call of the wilderness. The ominous skies resembling blood-soaked battle fields. In the shelter of the forest, a reprieve from our ordeal. The laughter of the stream, the weeping of the rain. The Thunder God's hammer coming down as we return to the wild again. The interegnum has ended! Where will we go in this strange land we should have called home? The elusive ghosts of the native ancestral spirit no longer vacant from its throne. We must learn to live without comfort, to be fed we must learn to grow.

Submitted by Pestilence — Apr 25, 2025

It is cold on the outskirts of the fire and we shiver in confusion, greedilly huddling for warmth next to the dancing flames. Back to back wallowing in shame! “As a single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind. To make a deep physical path we walk again and again, to make a deep mental path we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives.” Isa, whose been carved in this stone, our fear causes stillness. We are like the glass waters of an undisturbed pond. Petrified in our selfishness, only moving to satiate our own desires and quench our own thirsts. Into the void we all fall, abandoned humanity as we have abandoned law. Away from the bullets and fire, bombs over head. Its easy to escape state oppression but not to escape ourselves To learn to live as one body, away from this capitalist hell. Poison runes, Merkstave, the ink that smears your flesh branded with this human curse to only care for ones self. It takes more than one tree to create the forests canopy. How do we learn to live as one body and yet mantain our individual autonomy? This war has just begun and the most deadly weapon is our own hands. This war has just begun and the most deadly weapon is our own hands! When one of us falls in the field I will become your shield, when one of us harvests the grain all of us will eat again. When ever a child is born, a warrior she will become. When one of us ever is slain all of us will feel his pain.

Submitted by BloodShrine — Apr 25, 2025

After the blood has dried on Vigrid and the hordes are laid to rest, Sertr has flung the fire of Muspel but its embers no longer glow. Arise, Earth again, fair and green. Modi and Magni, take up your fathers hammer, meet me in Idavollr where it's always warm. Come Baldr and Hodr, drink together as Lif and Lifthrasir have emerged from the great ash tree. Odin lives on in his wisdom and Thor in his strength, we raise our horns to the slain. Remember the Gods again! Arise, Gods again, fair and true. Turn your backs to the door that faces north, meet me in Okolnir where its always warm. Men will quarel, rivers will run, flowers will bloom and Nidhogg will feed on the blood of the dead.

Submitted by Warbringer — Apr 25, 2025

What will you do when your properties gone? When the finger on the triggers your one and only son? When the money in your pocket cannot buy even bread? The city has crumbled, the people have been bled Looks like the beginning of the end The machine has grown to crush the world, the walls are getting higher. The youth will be the first to throw themselves upon the pyre. The reason for living seems so fruitless in the aftermath when we've finally walked to the end of the path. The time is near at hand, a fact you must accept. Time stands still for no man not even for the rich. So sorry we're so humourless, it's just the way we are. You laugh but I don't get the joke, we walk but don't get far. Maybe there is hope in the dawning of the day. When no rules define survival, when the earth starts to decay. It's you who face the holocaust. It's you who cast the vote. The sad part of your future is it lacks an antidote.

Submitted by Corpse Defiler — Nov 16, 2025