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Beyond the Twilight
- Beyond the Twilight -
On the battlefields, where men lined up in ranks,
No camp to hold them from the horrors of war…
The gods themselves wept: by all the riverbanks.
Not one soul could imagine what lay yet in store!
I can still hear the screaming of those once slain,
Chosen by the maids of Valhalla to drink mead…
Poured by Odin, to make the fallen to live again.
And so they rose, they rise, to fulfill divine need!
Where was the rainbow bridge ever resplendent?
Not seen by mortals, but I did see it nonetheless!
Who now, keeps in memory, the commandment?
I keep my ancient oaths for my spirit is relentless.
Out of the Abyss, to claim the light of the stars…
The old wounds fade, leaving not even the scars.
Where are the doors that lead, to the future day?
Where are the trees on which ripen the gold fruit!
Where are the maidens who were, in every way,
Embodiments of these things: that inspire us true?
Whence came the voice: which sang out…
‘Ware the day, for the light is faded away!
Filling the spirits of mankind, with doubt…
Naught to say: ‘ere the birth of a new way.
Behold the sands of the hour that pour on!
See the distant dove, a goddess’s symbol,
And, rejoice at the rising of her fiery dawn.
When the dark fades she is reborn whole!
Through the frost and the flame of battle…
I remain, the knight who guards the secret.
Even if nine worlds bleed until they rattle…
My heart will hold to itself an ideal perfect.
Like a great dragon whose heads, once severed,
Grow many more in their place, by sacred blood.
Hail to the dragon, serpentine and un-feathered…
Whose fires can quench, even the greatest flood!
So call the risen warriors for whom the darkness,
Is as passing as the wolf that swallows the moon.
No fear can make the heart to wantonly confess,
Such things as cannot be put into words so soon.
Where were, the golden halls that fables told of?
Not seen by lesser men, but I had walked there!
How can any man tell the glories that are above?
And yet I have told of them, most freely to share.
Out of the Abyss, to fill the mind of one hearing,
The old knowledge returns: its’ courses steering.
I have seen that which inspires me, and is holy…
I have seen, the roots of the tree that is all things.
I have seen into a light that blazes forever boldly,
Its’ power, is above the powers of earthly kings!
Did you see the corpses, of nations fallen?
Their righteous pride taken by wicked lies.
They become shadows; bloated, swollen!
Deceivers reign, but we faithful shall arise.
The light is not yet dimmed, in those stars,
Which burn in our hearts to move our will.
That will shall triumph and break the bars,
Which imprison the light, and keep it chill!
The mistletoe spear, the lance of slayers…
Holds the blood that renews or annihilates.
The chalice that is not told of, in prayers…
Makes the blood sacred, and immaculate!
Once, I fought the calling of the blood within me.
But knowing its’ power has helped me to stand…
And so was I chosen to embrace my old destiny,
Like those warriors who fell to defend their land!
I too have risen from the depths of death and ire,
And the dragon’s fires course within all my veins.
In the name of my beliefs, I neither fade nor tire…
For I have looked into Hell, embracing its’ pains.
Where else may one look to know the full price?
Not seen by the righteous preaching of salvation!
How else, can one hope to conquer fire and ice?
I overcame them, and thus overcame damnation.
Out of the Abyss, to know a peace more serene,
The old peace was lost, at some time in between.
They have not gone, the loyal guardians of glory!
They have not gone, the songs lost heroes sang…
They have not gone, the ideals written of in story!
My fight shall continue, until the final bell’s clang.
The gods who rule, their twilight is written,
My spear is made ready to pierce the veil.
For goddess and glory, my spirit smitten…
Shall not forsake the honor we faithful hail.
Divine blood is upon the lance; its’ power,
Enters the chalice that the maiden brings…
And from the lifeless soil, springs a flower.
Fairer than those held by queens or kings!
White as those in the far fields of Valhalla,
The flower blooms from a sanguine nectar.
One becomes many, holy and hallowed…
Beyond the twilight, heralding a new order.
On the battlefields, where men lined up in ranks,
No camp to hold them from the horrors of war…
The gods themselves wept: by all the riverbanks.
Not one soul could imagine what lay yet in store!
I can still hear the screaming of those once slain,
Chosen by the maids of Valhalla to drink mead…
Poured by Odin, to make the fallen to live again.
And so they rose, they rise, to fulfill divine need!
Where was the rainbow bridge ever resplendent?
Not seen by mortals, but I did see it nonetheless!
Who now, keeps in memory, the commandment?
I keep my ancient oaths for my spirit is relentless.
Out of the Abyss, to claim the light of the stars…
The old wounds fade, leaving not even the scars.
Where are the doors that lead, to the future day?
Where are the trees on which ripen the gold fruit!
Where are the maidens who were, in every way,
Embodiments of these things: that inspire us true?
Whence came the voice: which sang out…
‘Ware the day, for the light is faded away!
Filling the spirits of mankind, with doubt…
Naught to say: ‘ere the birth of a new way.
Behold the sands of the hour that pour on!
See the distant dove, a goddess’s symbol,
And, rejoice at the rising of her fiery dawn.
When the dark fades she is reborn whole!
Through the frost and the flame of battle…
I remain, the knight who guards the secret.
Even if nine worlds bleed until they rattle…
My heart will hold to itself an ideal perfect.
Like a great dragon whose heads, once severed,
Grow many more in their place, by sacred blood.
Hail to the dragon, serpentine and un-feathered…
Whose fires can quench, even the greatest flood!
So call the risen warriors for whom the darkness,
Is as passing as the wolf that swallows the moon.
No fear can make the heart to wantonly confess,
Such things as cannot be put into words so soon.
Where were, the golden halls that fables told of?
Not seen by lesser men, but I had walked there!
How can any man tell the glories that are above?
And yet I have told of them, most freely to share.
Out of the Abyss, to fill the mind of one hearing,
The old knowledge returns: its’ courses steering.
I have seen that which inspires me, and is holy…
I have seen, the roots of the tree that is all things.
I have seen into a light that blazes forever boldly,
Its’ power, is above the powers of earthly kings!
Did you see the corpses, of nations fallen?
Their righteous pride taken by wicked lies.
They become shadows; bloated, swollen!
Deceivers reign, but we faithful shall arise.
The light is not yet dimmed, in those stars,
Which burn in our hearts to move our will.
That will shall triumph and break the bars,
Which imprison the light, and keep it chill!
The mistletoe spear, the lance of slayers…
Holds the blood that renews or annihilates.
The chalice that is not told of, in prayers…
Makes the blood sacred, and immaculate!
Once, I fought the calling of the blood within me.
But knowing its’ power has helped me to stand…
And so was I chosen to embrace my old destiny,
Like those warriors who fell to defend their land!
I too have risen from the depths of death and ire,
And the dragon’s fires course within all my veins.
In the name of my beliefs, I neither fade nor tire…
For I have looked into Hell, embracing its’ pains.
Where else may one look to know the full price?
Not seen by the righteous preaching of salvation!
How else, can one hope to conquer fire and ice?
I overcame them, and thus overcame damnation.
Out of the Abyss, to know a peace more serene,
The old peace was lost, at some time in between.
They have not gone, the loyal guardians of glory!
They have not gone, the songs lost heroes sang…
They have not gone, the ideals written of in story!
My fight shall continue, until the final bell’s clang.
The gods who rule, their twilight is written,
My spear is made ready to pierce the veil.
For goddess and glory, my spirit smitten…
Shall not forsake the honor we faithful hail.
Divine blood is upon the lance; its’ power,
Enters the chalice that the maiden brings…
And from the lifeless soil, springs a flower.
Fairer than those held by queens or kings!
White as those in the far fields of Valhalla,
The flower blooms from a sanguine nectar.
One becomes many, holy and hallowed…
Beyond the twilight, heralding a new order.
Published 7th Nov 2011
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7th Nov 2011 8:33pm
An outstanding epic piece extremely stimulating to read thank you for sharing it. I enjoyed it.
Gypsy red
Gypsy red
17th Sep 2012 8:06am
It was my pleasure, Gypsy Red! I love to write epics, and I love even more sharing them with such great fans and friends. :D
Anonymous
16th Nov 2011 4:13am
have you ever thought about publishing a book on all these wonderful poem? you are gifted loved the epic adventure of such a quaking poem
I am happy you liked it, Starstruck13! I was very much going for a quaking, thunderous tone to this work, and I am pleased you noticed that about it.
And yes, I am pursuing various ideas regarding publishing, though naturally such things take time.
And yes, I am pursuing various ideas regarding publishing, though naturally such things take time.
