Allhärskare

The beauty of Israel is slain, tell it not in Gath lest philistine women boast. On thee O Gilboa mountain no dew shall fall, for there my brother fell. How are the mighty fallen. victorious in war they where no, hungry sword returned. Swifter than eagles, stronger than lions. Pleasent they where father and son. How... even in death not devided. Weep for them O daughters of my people. The beauty you wear was paid with their swords. Scarlet robes and ornaments of gold. How... Even in the midst of the battle. O Jonathan thou wast slain, O dear fiend of mine I mourn. Pleasant unto me you were, thy love wonderful it was, passing the love of women!! How... how are they perished these swords of war.

Submitted by MetalElf — Apr 26, 2025

She is all, she is more than i need, for more than her no man could ever plead. Gentle sa the soft rains of the fall God has not created In all his wisdom a spirit more beautiful. The sweet breeze of her Whisper brakes my shell, brakes me, in the sound of her beating heart I am lost will always be. These words so dry; and my heart is all that I can give. Everything I have can not pay what to her I owe. Your daughter o God, I tremble with fear, how can I keep the one you hold so dear? this treasure of love how can I receive? the trust you have given I can not believe. For her I`ll bleed, for her I`ll die, trade my life without the wink of an eye. So this much you love me, you trust me this much. You let me hold in my arms this beauty that I merely dare to touch. So Almighty God lord of all land, down on my kness I ask for her hand.

Submitted by The Void — Apr 26, 2025

He spoke light was born, by its beams was darkness torn. Creator of earth and heavenly realm my poor soul you overwhelm. You gave the breath of life, you broke my pride. I came to life and my sin deid. You spoke, light was born, in my heart the veil was torn.. .you are everything to me, you set me free...

Submitted by Morgoth — Apr 26, 2025

Stolta folk med styva nackar, fjärran har du vandrat från ljusets väg. Fylld av avunds bittra galla... En jungfru var du så blid och ren, nu bjuder du öst och väst sära dina ben. Oren, moder svea tvag dig ren, du har löpt till en annan famn du har gett dig till en annan man. Dina händer är fulla av ångande blod, blod av barn i tusental, de var givna av Gud men du har offrat dem till Baal. Men hur skulle jag kunna straffa dig min dotter, mitt hjärta blöder, min nitälskan glöder. Vänd åter och jag skall vända åter till dig. Än finns det tid än finns det hopp, än finns det blod som renar. Dina händer är röda av barn i tusental, de oföddas blod de oföddas klav. Har du inget hjärta kvar i ditt döda bröst, hör du inte skriken av de oföddas röst ? än finns det...

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Apr 26, 2025

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