War Paint

Ash of Oak

Spit of Creator

Willing Blood sacrificed

Advertisements

Freya

Great Queen
Lady of Sky
You have been betrayed
From the moment you became locked in myth written
Created by hands of a slave
The imagery of you is blasphemy
From abrahamic romanticism a century past
To modern hypocrisy of those who look to you
Yet they would be terrified to walk your true path
You, great queen
A lady from distant isles
Recorded under lands across the sea
You are more than they say
You are enlightenment in female one
Warriors bound to your will
Magic yours to command
Beauty and fertility bestowed upon the land
Only the hanged one to match you
You are an eminence from the time you ruled
Yet your myth recorded is under pretense and agenda
How dare a woman be such amongst slaves
Yet deep in the past things were much differently
Your name is beyond what they say
The crow who flies
The magic that causes battle to sway
The fierce eyed and lovely hipped
Desire for such is every mans back felt whip
To invoke you is to bring about One
Your path is the moon and sun
Poetic Frenzy in one culture
Is the pair if the unknowing care
Do not be enslaved by one mans texts
A blessing yet a curse it is
He was under the enslaved hex
True words are read twice as long
First understand the long dead heart song
Looking upon your broken image
Is a modern mirage
They must see your rightful place
Believing you are bound to one time and culture
What a disgrace
Trickled to a time of matrilineal society
That was the way of many a land
The modern mind of both sexes can not understand
I final name upon you placed
The Great Lady they called you
Your last written place
Yet today we have awoken
From the slavery of man broken
A thousand years of terror
Perhaps we will see their error
Mighty Queen
Goddess of War
Sorceress Supreme
Fertility in abundance
Beauty none could imagine gleamed
Enlightenment and Oneness your path
Call the warriors back torward
Pledged we are to move forward

The Shadowed

 

Screen Shot 2015-08-11 at 8.22.43 AM

Shadowed ones

Wielders of magic

Warriors fierce

Crow faced

Priestesses of the war goddess

Frenzied women garbed in black

Torch wielders with wild hair

Choosers of slain men

Givers of battle blessing

Hex bound upon enemy

Martial masters

Wardens of the esoteric

Keepers of the secret War Arts

Teachers of heroes

Raven masked

Sisterhood of shadows

The Baying

huntsmall

Far in the distance
Deep in the forest
I hear their baying
I hear the horns blow
The Tempest stirs
The leaves slowly fall
Soon the forest will be fire
Shadow will blanket the land
The Huntsman opens his eye
Change is upon us
It will not come forth
One must seek it
One must take it
At the point of a spear
The horns blow in the distance
The hounds bay
The Hunt comes upon us
With anticipation my soul waits
With longing my heart hungers
Each day
The horns grow louder
The hounds come closer
I ready my spirit
To join the wild chase
With patience
I await The Wild Hunt

The Spear

The spear is my only truth
For the point leads the way
The way leads to emptiness
Emptiness contains the spirit
Spirit is my only truth
With all human history erased
No knowledge of self within society
No culture to know of
No infant religion to speak of
For religion is culture worshipping itself
That is truth
To become the earth
The universe to become you
I know no incantation
No special words
No ritual movements
No man made altar
No recorded season
No special date
No gods
No goddesses
I have no name
I know only natural breath
I know spirits
I know the Spirit
Form leads to formlessness
Empty space contains victory
Before a touch is laid
Oh, that touch
To touch and be untouchable
That is the way of the spear
The elements of earth along my spine
The elements in my hand
The sight in my eye
Understanding upon my head
To touch and be untouchable
That is the way of the spear
The silent web of magic unseen
The density of air that makes him hesitate
The hesitation that brings defeat
To touch and be untouchable
To cut and be uncuttable
To pierce and be unpierceable
To be nothing and everything
The spear has brought my only truth