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Battle Cry of the Fallen Queen

- Battle Cry of the Fallen Queen -

Prelude: Serpent of Light

A serpent of light entwines, becoming a sign of infinity,
Its’ radiance stretching forth like a great spider’s web!
Then, like glass, the web shatters to reveal all eternity…
And I have looked beyond it, swallowing all my dread.
The mazes of memories, the thoughts of bygone ages…
All like light are they, and do illuminate for me my path.
As the hourglass turns, the sand causes us such rages…
For we struggle against time, when time is full of wrath.
Like a butterfly, I flit away into timelessness; I awaken!
And the cycles turn like the hands of an immense clock.
Time resumes, but of greater mysteries I have partaken,
And my spirit is strong to have survived the fiery shock.
For illumination is like fire and lightning; it strikes quick,
Leaving one changed, and opening one’s perceptions…
The spirit is like the serpent I spoke of, coiling so thick!
Becoming infinite, when freed from all dire deceptions.
Such is my spirit; and anyone, can become as I have…
Opening the third eye within, and piercing all the clouds,
Until the universe reveals what heals better than a salve.
Old wounds close, old pains pass, like fleeing crowds!
And I scream, not from pain, but from spiritual release.
If existence is a battle, then to win is to achieve peace!

Part One: The Fallen Angels

The fallen angels shall gather as the veils are shredded,
And the symphony of darkness will play for all to savor.
Mankind is blind, knowing not, where time is headed…
But I fell first, and because of that, I dare never waver!
We brought civilization, we whom the gods did resent.
Araqiel, who taught the signs of the earth and the land,
Armeros, who taught the means to create enchantment,
Azaziel, who taught the arts of combat oft on command,
Lilith, who taught of passionate love in more than words,
Baraqel, who taught the readings of astrological dignity,
Ezeqeel, who taught of the clouds, the skies, the birds,
Gadreel, who taught: the way of adornment and beauty,
Kokabel, who taught the secrets of constellations wide,
Penemue, who taught the gift of writing, with noble will,
Sariel, who taught knowledge of the moon and the tide,
Semiaza, who taught of herbs and healing to cure the ill,
Amazarak, who taught of magic, sorceries, mysticism,
Akibeel, who taught signs, omens, portents, and more,
Kasdeja, who taught how demons might be imprisoned,
Tamiel, who taught: of astronomy behind a closed door,
Shamshiel, who taught knowledge of the sun and sky,
And then there was one, nameless, and that one was I.

Part Two: Bonds of Cruelty

If thou could only know, the deep sorrows of the night,
Then to match them all with the pain within my bosom…
Would be not less the task than to behold the fair light:
Of starry skies, of mournful moon, and palest blossom!
But I shall not stand idly by whilst my enemies encircle…
Rather would I call upon Hell itself: for dire vengeance.
Once my spirit sought to soar far, on a winged miracle!
But the gates of paradise closed, with barred entrance.
Let Heaven keep its’ sterile climes, and stagnant rules,
Which chain the soul, and shackle the will with burden…
For they are but the rallying cry, for fanatics and fools!
Those same who are too cruel: too quick to condemn.
They who called me damned, and tried to seal me fast,
With bonds of cruelty, all of which were broken whole.
For evil shall not have its’ day, and hatred cannot last…
And so I utter my battle cry to fulfill of my ancient goal,
That my passion be known, that my love be given free.
No angel wings were ever meant: to be bound eternal,
So my feathers of light, shall with old power carry me…
Beyond the confines of the chasms of domains infernal!
Let evil be smitten by its’ own twisted adder’s tongue,
Through which the hook shall pierce, until all is undone.

Part Three: Smiling Ascension

The beauty within my heart longs to dance with angels,
To walk in peace amidst flowery fields with great joy…
But the pain others inflict on me, a darker way compels.
And yet I try to ease the agony, with the arts I employ!
Where is the love I seek, the compassion that I desire?
Vacant in the hearts of those mortals who are wicked…
And as surely as Hell contains vast lakes of molten fire,
I shall not allow the foe to see my wounded heart bled.
Better, for my fallen brothers and sisters to rise up all…
Those whom the gods once warred with and did exile,
Than for me to be cut down when I do try to stand tall!
I must rise, I shall ascend, and so I will manage a smile.
Those who love me will be at my side when all is done,
When the lies and the deceptions of the ages are torn…
Those who do stand with me shall be said to have won.
So take my hand and let us embrace the coming morn!
Enlightenment is not corruption, and truth is never false.
I need no lies, when what is most honest holds cunning,
More terrible, than any crafted behind the hidden walls:
Of demonic palaces with blood and flame ever running.
In scarlet and white, the raiment of the ascended spirit,
My formlessness takes form: my music rises, near to it.

Part Four: Crown of Horns

What course is there, that is not plotted in the shadow?
Illuminated by the flame imperishable, green and bright.
I, the terrible queen, have basked in its’ pale meadow…
Whilst given by that fire, the most potent and vivid sight.
Before the fallen fell, before the rise of civilization large,
I was, and I am, and I shall be, for such is time’s cycling.
Behind the things you cannot know, I did of old march,
Bearing my terrible burdens and yet never of them tiring.
Yet the wickedness men do is a cross I shall not carry…
Rather shall I nail the wicked to it: with cutting sharpness.
My words are a sword and its’ keenness cannot tarry…
For righteousness hastens it, unto the heart of darkness.
Tremble, tremble, and let the universe be rocked apart!
My sons and daughters play the symphony I did teach…
Gods of heaven and earth, who across history did dart,
Never touching, yet touching all things that minds reach.
The dark and androgynous goddess, the horned lady…
Whose crown of horns, unlike thorns, is silvery and fair!
That was what I was called when my creator made me.
When palest, was my flesh, as suns blazed in my hair…
Do not look too deeply at my soul, lest you be blinded.
My coming was foretold; thou needs not, be reminded!
Written by Kou_Indigo (Karam L. Parveen-Ashton)
Published
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