Remembering the ancient wars
Liar of golgotha
As long as life's fire has been burning - entangled in
the elements of whatever shape, sentient or
non-sentient, inhabiting whatever dimension - its
shady counterpart death has lured the living into
despair, bringing them disease, disaster? war! And as
long as life can be found, battles will be fought.
If not on earth, then perhaps in the sky above the
clouds, beyond the stars, beyond our universe, in
heaven or in hell.
And whoever take part in the slaughter: ancient gods,
alien races, human beings, or even the smallest of
creatures, they will fight guided by the past: a past
painted red with bloodshed.
Some things will never go away, as if being burned
into the frail skin of remembrance.
And they will haunt your mind as often as they can.
All of those sacred memories have distinct tastes and
pains and they remind you of the times of a past now
in slumber: times of victory.
And these thoughts and collectively inherited visions
form the remembrance of war.
In the back of my aching raw throat I taste the dried
blood that had slowly seeped out of the gaping wounds
of all those pagan children that bravely died in war
fighting for their empire? and mine.
Although they died in great pain, their skills and
honour still live on.
In the far corners of my head I can find the
penetrating screams that were violently cast into the
weeping ice cold winter winds that randomly ran
through these fields of Death and Armageddon and froze
the faces of our dying warriors, and bathed the piles
of skulls in beds of blinding snow.
But neither cold nor heat could stop us from our
mission of domination.
In my chest there is the excruciating pain inflicted
by the spears and swords of the weakened and defeated
enemy forces.
Oh how they had cast themselves into the open arms of
Death, into a battle destined to be lost.
But those fools need not to be pityed for their
deaths, but for their lives.
And now, at this day and age, I still hold the flag of
our regained empire firmly in my hands.
And it will wave for all eternity.
the elements of whatever shape, sentient or
non-sentient, inhabiting whatever dimension - its
shady counterpart death has lured the living into
despair, bringing them disease, disaster? war! And as
long as life can be found, battles will be fought.
If not on earth, then perhaps in the sky above the
clouds, beyond the stars, beyond our universe, in
heaven or in hell.
And whoever take part in the slaughter: ancient gods,
alien races, human beings, or even the smallest of
creatures, they will fight guided by the past: a past
painted red with bloodshed.
Some things will never go away, as if being burned
into the frail skin of remembrance.
And they will haunt your mind as often as they can.
All of those sacred memories have distinct tastes and
pains and they remind you of the times of a past now
in slumber: times of victory.
And these thoughts and collectively inherited visions
form the remembrance of war.
In the back of my aching raw throat I taste the dried
blood that had slowly seeped out of the gaping wounds
of all those pagan children that bravely died in war
fighting for their empire? and mine.
Although they died in great pain, their skills and
honour still live on.
In the far corners of my head I can find the
penetrating screams that were violently cast into the
weeping ice cold winter winds that randomly ran
through these fields of Death and Armageddon and froze
the faces of our dying warriors, and bathed the piles
of skulls in beds of blinding snow.
But neither cold nor heat could stop us from our
mission of domination.
In my chest there is the excruciating pain inflicted
by the spears and swords of the weakened and defeated
enemy forces.
Oh how they had cast themselves into the open arms of
Death, into a battle destined to be lost.
But those fools need not to be pityed for their
deaths, but for their lives.
And now, at this day and age, I still hold the flag of
our regained empire firmly in my hands.
And it will wave for all eternity.
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