deepundergroundpoetry.com
To The Death!
I speak from the peaks
To the god of war, Ares
You charge onto a field of battle
You cannot hope to win
In a war with the blood
Of your blood, for I am your kin
Ópla! Sto Étoimo!
Máchi! Sto thánato!
Violence rages in my veins
Clashing of weapons and thunder is all the same
As demigods form ranks in oblivion
The bolts of Zeus are on the loose
As the Earth Shaker strangles on the noose
Titans take to the world again
Upon the steps of Olympus
Ares did rut with lust
With a war maiden of Hel
Two Pantheons united
On a course set for war
Use the spears as a spit
And roast the bodies on the floor
Våpen! På klar!
Slåssing! Til døden!
I exist beyond Odin’s eye
For I was banished from Asgard in the darkest night
Like the beast, the father of wolves, Fenris
But he, Loki, holding the key
As the thunder gods struggle from their knees
Fimbulwinter comes at last
And in the halls of Valhalla
Behold the eye of Ra
Choking in the serpent’s grasp
Primordial gods fight
Set’s on a course for war
Piles of gathering dead
For this is the end of the world
Weapons! At ready!
Fighting! To the death!
At the end
I stand victorious
On piles of fallen foes
I was born
With the hot crimson blood
Of Ares in my veins
To the god of war, Ares
You charge onto a field of battle
You cannot hope to win
In a war with the blood
Of your blood, for I am your kin
Ópla! Sto Étoimo!
Máchi! Sto thánato!
Violence rages in my veins
Clashing of weapons and thunder is all the same
As demigods form ranks in oblivion
The bolts of Zeus are on the loose
As the Earth Shaker strangles on the noose
Titans take to the world again
Upon the steps of Olympus
Ares did rut with lust
With a war maiden of Hel
Two Pantheons united
On a course set for war
Use the spears as a spit
And roast the bodies on the floor
Våpen! På klar!
Slåssing! Til døden!
I exist beyond Odin’s eye
For I was banished from Asgard in the darkest night
Like the beast, the father of wolves, Fenris
But he, Loki, holding the key
As the thunder gods struggle from their knees
Fimbulwinter comes at last
And in the halls of Valhalla
Behold the eye of Ra
Choking in the serpent’s grasp
Primordial gods fight
Set’s on a course for war
Piles of gathering dead
For this is the end of the world
Weapons! At ready!
Fighting! To the death!
At the end
I stand victorious
On piles of fallen foes
I was born
With the hot crimson blood
Of Ares in my veins
Published 30th Sep 2014
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