Anonymous Plays:XVI - ‘Arden of Feversham’
MOTHER whose womb brought forth our man of men,
Mother of Shakespeare, whom all time acclaims
Queen therefore, sovereign queen of English dames,
Throned higher than sat thy sonless empress then,
Was it thy son’s young passion-guided pen
Which drew, reflected from encircling flames,
A figure marked by the earlier of thy names
Wife, and from all her wedded kinswomen
Marked by the sign of murderess? Pale and great,
Great in her grief and sin, but in her death
And anguish of her penitential breath
Greater than all her sin or sin-born fate,
She stands, the holocaust of dark desire,
Clothed round with song for ever as with fire.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Mary Arden
When a simple English maiden,
Nested warm in Wilmicote,
Sang forth like a lark uprising
Heavenward with its morning note,
Did no English ear that listened,
Even then, foretouched by fame,
Tremble to the prophet-music
Fountain-headed in thy name,
Mary Arden?
And to thee thyself, O tell me!
Shade of Shakespeare’s mother, tell me!
Did no dazzling vision come,
Banishing all thoughts of gloom,
Of the bardic grandeurs waiting
On thy matron fate, when He
Who in time should call thee mother
Should all time’s subjector be,
Mary Arden?
Then a mother we behold thee,
With that babe upon thy breast,
That great nascent soul, so bird-like,
Babbling in its fragrant nest:
O what spirit sweetly human,
O what instincts mildly wise,
Sucked he from those mother-fountains,
Drew he from those mother-eyes,
Mary Arden?
But shall we, now spirit-basking
In the noonblaze of his fame,
Fail to read a sign prophetic
In thy lovely maiden name?
No; it is the star that trembled
O’er a royal poet’s birth;
And amongst immortal Maries,
Second to but one on earth,
Mary Arden!
Glory to thee! Mary Arden!
Shakespeare’s mother! England’s Mary!
poem by Charles Harpur
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Mother, O Mother
Mother O Mother, You Are Great
Mother O Mother you are great,
All the problems solve in any state,
Still we find there is no hate,
Each and everyone you make your mate,
Love is in your heart, your work is very smart,
All your whole life you carry the home-cart,
In your job there is no wait,
Mother, O Mother you are great.
Working all the time,
To make our things fine,
Guiding always to be far from crime,
In your work there is no late,
Mother O Mother you are great,
Caring for us, praying for us,
Struggling for us, standing for us,
With your efforts, make our bright fate,
Mother O Mother you are great,
You are my lord, you are my God,
In your service there is no fraud,
With your blessings, life is always set,
Mother O Mother you are great.
poem by Prakash Joshi
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Black Sabbath
What is this that stands before me
Figure in black which points at me
Turn round quick and start to run
Find out Im the chosen one
Oh, no
Big black shape with eyes of fire
Telling people their desire
Satan sitting there, hes smiling
Watches those flame get higher and higher
Oh, god--lease help me
Oh, no--no
Child cries out for its mother
Mother screaming in the fire
Satan points at me again
Opens the door to push me in
Oh, no
Oh, god
Is it the end my friend
Satans coming round the bend
People running cause theyre scared
You people better go and beware
No, no
Please, god--no
song performed by by Ozzy Osbourne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To India
O YOUNG through all thy immemorial years!
Rise, Mother, rise, regenerate from thy gloom,
And, like a bride high-mated with the spheres,
Beget new glories from thine ageless womb!
The nations that in fettered darkness weep
Crave thee to lead them where great mornings break . . . .
Mother, O Mother, wherefore dost thou sleep?
Arise and answer for thy children's sake!
Thy Future calls thee with a manifold sound
To crescent honours, splendours, victories vast;
Waken, O slumbering Mother and be crowned,
Who once wert empress of the sovereign Past.
poem by Sarojini Naidu
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Sonnet: Mary, Mother of God
O Heavenly Mother of Jesus Christ!
O Virgin Queen, our Mother too, divine
Who bore Him, yet became disciple first,
O Mother Great of Velankanni shrine.
O Mary, born without Original Sin!
Loving Mother of God’s begotten Son;
Conceived by Holy Spirit, still virgin;
Queen of Heaven, crowned stars and sun!
From earth, Mary assumed into Heaven;
The serpent Satan failed to win, because;
Mother of Perpetual Help for all men,
Mother of Sorrows saw Son die on cross.
O Mary, Intercessor, Lord’s with thee!
Pray for sinners, on earth and Purgatory.
13-6-2001
poem by John Celes
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‘Happy Birthday’, Mother Mary!
8th September – your birthday,
O Queen of heaven, all say;
The grace that filled your heart, aye,
Gave us and world, a mighty day.
O Maria Bambina!
Daughter of Joachim and Anne;
You acceded to God’s request
Through angel Gabriel.
You grew up in great piety;
God chose you from amongst women –
A virgin to mother a child,
A baby boy, Immanuel!
By pow’r of Spirit Holy,
You bore the sacred baby,
In your womb of sanctity,
O Mother Virgin Mary.
Hail Mary, Mother of Jesus;
Heavenly mother of mankind;
Look down with mercy upon us,
Ask God to cleanse our sin-stained souls!
O New Eve of the world of men!
The Word became flesh in your womb,
And born was the Lord, ‘King of Kings’:
You trounced Satan forever then.
Conceived without Original Sin,
Becoming Mother of God;
You set aside all Natural laws,
And gave birth to the Lord.
You brought Salvation to mankind
Through Jesus Christ your son,
Who came as Savior, Messiah,
And suffered a death on cross!
O Lady of great chastity!
You obeyed Almighty’s one wish;
Exalted more than angels, saints,
Heaven is now your true abode.
O perfect vessel made by God!
Afilled by grace up to the brim;
The most blessed among women,
Our Intercessor, Pure of heart.
O Mary most immaculate,
Assumed into heaven by God;
Do pray for us sinners on earth
And protect souls from fire of hell.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 09-08-08
poem by John Celes
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MY QUEEN I LoVe YOU…
MOTHER, you’re my Precious Gift,
Heaven Under Your Feet,
Of my Heart you are the Beat,
MOTHER, from ALLAH you have been sent...
MAMMY, you’re my First School,
Without you I’m a fool,
You’re my REASON that’s sure…
MAMMA, my Precious Pearl,
My wounds you heal,
My sorrow you kill,
My tiredness you feel…
MOM, your LoVe in my Soul, it will Never die,
MOM, your LoVe in my Heart, it will Never breathe its last breath,
MOM, I'm never ready to say goodbye,
Don’t ask me why?
I’ll reply…
DEAR MOTHER, you’re my Mysterious Instinct…
I want to cry aloud,
“I’m soooooo proud”,
I’m so proud of your sacrifices,
I’m so proud of your patience,
I’m so proud of your noble feelings…
Thanks to your Wisdom, my Insight is Keen
Thanks to your Kindness, my Compassion is Deep
Thanks to your Heart, my LoVe is Sincere
Thanks to your Pure Soul, my Thought is Shrewd …
MY LOVELY MOM, you light my Day,
MY LOVELY MOM, you take my pain away …
MAMMA, your kind is angelic, so…
In my own way I'll say: THANK YOU…
MOM, THANK YOU, you made me a true-born,
MOM, THANK YOU, when I was weak, you gave me Strength,
MOM, THANK YOU, when I was disappointed, you called for Hope,
MOM, THANK YOU, when I was astray, you Guided me,
MOM, THANK YOU, when I was mistaken, you Warned me,
MOM, THANK YOU, when I was intolerant, you Softened me,
MOM, THANK YOU, when I was withered, you Flowered me again,
MOM, THANK YOU, when I was wrong, you Directed me,
MOM, THANK YOU, when I was guilty, you Reprimanded me,
MOM, THANK YOU, when I was anger you, Calmed me…
MOM THANK YOU, for your Patience,
MOM, THANK YOU, for your Help,
MOM, THANK YOU, for your Compassion,
MOM, THANK YOU, for your Care,
MOM, THANK YOU, for your Understanding,
MOM, THANK YOU, for your Tolerance,
MOM, THANK YOU, for your LoVe,
MOM, THANK YOU, for your Charity,
MOM, THANK YOU, for your Worry,
MOM, THANK YOU, for your Serenity…
MAMMA, you’re my panacea
MAMMA, without you I’m pariah …
MAMMA, you’re the very right QUEEN in the most Sensitive Empire “My Heart”… hence I’ll say: SORRY…
MY QUEEN, SORRY if a day I got you tiered,
MY QUEEN, SORRY if a day I angered you,
MY QUEEN, SORRY if a day I disappointed you,
MY QUEEN, SORRY if a day I forsaken you,
MY QUEEN, SORRY if a day I didn’t say: “I LoVe you”,
MY QUEEN, SORRY if a day is over and I didn’t embrace you,
MY QUEEN, SORRY if a day is over and I didn’t thank you,
MY QUEEN, SORRY if a day is over and I didn’t miss you,
MY QUEEN, SORRY if a day is over and I didn’t excuse you,
MY QUEEN, SORRY if a day is over and I didn’t respect you,
MY QUEEN, SORRY if a day is over and I didn’t care of you,
MY QUEEN, SORRY if a day is over and I didn’t support you…
MY QUEEN I LoVe YOU…
{August 13,2009}
poem by Glamorous Enigma
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Cry Baby Cry
Cry baby cry
Make your mother sigh
She's old enough to know better.
The king of marigold was in the kitchen
Cooking breakfast for the queen
The queen was in the parlour
Playing piano for the children of the king.
Cry baby cry
Make your mother sigh
She's old enough to know better
So cry baby cry.
The king was in the garden
Picking flowers for a friend who came to play
The queen was in the playroom
Painting pictures for the childrens holiday.
Cry baby cry
Make your mother sigh
She's old enough to know better
So cry baby cry.
The duchess of kircaldy always smiling
And arriving late for tea
The duke was having problems
With a message at the local bird and bee.
Cry baby cry
Make your mother sigh
She's old enough to know better
So cry baby cry.
At twelve o'clock a meeting round the table
For a seance in the dark
With voices out of nowhere
Put on specially by the children for a lark.
Cry baby cry
Make your mother sigh
She's old enough to know better
So cry baby cry cry cry cry baby
Make your mother sigh.
She's old enough to know better
Cry baby cry
Cry cry cry
Make your mother sigh
She's old enough to know better
So cry baby cry.
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Prayer For The King's Majesty
22nd January, 1901.
THE Queen is dead. God save the King,
In this his hour of grief,
When sorrow gathers memories in a sheaf
To lay them on his shoulders as he stands
Inheriting her glories and her lands--
First gain of his at which his Mother's voice
Has not been first to bless and to rejoice--
A man, set lonely between gain and loss.
(O words of love the heart remembereth,
O mighty loss outweighing every gain!)
A Son whose kingdom Death's arm lies across,
A King whose Mother lies alone with Death
Wrapped in the folds of white implacable sleep.
O God, who seest the tears Thy children weep,
O God, who countest each sad heart-beat, see
How our King needs the grace we ask of Thee!
Thou knowest how little and how vain a thing
Is Empire, when the heart is sick with pain--
God, save the King!
The Queen is dead. The splendour of her days,
The sorrow of them both alike merge now
In the new aureole that lights her brow.
The clamour of her people's voice in praise
Must hush itself to the still voice that prays
In the holy chamber of Death. Tread softly here,
A mighty Queen lies dead.
Her people's heart wears black,
The black bells toll unceasing in their ear,
And on the gold sun's track
The great world round
Like a black ring the voice of mourning goes,
Till even our ancient foes
With eyes downbent, and brotherly bared head,
Keep mourning watch with us. This is the hour
When Love lends all his power
To speed grief's arrows from the bow of Death,
When sighs are idle breath,
When tears are fountains vain.
She will not wake again,
Not now, not here.
O great and good and infinitely dear,
O Mother of your people, sleep is sweet,
No more Life's thorny ways will wound your feet.
O Mother dear, sleep sound!
When you shall wake,
Your brows freed from the crown that made them ache
So many a time, and wear the heavenly crown,
Then, then you will look down
On us who love you, and, remembering,
The love of earth will breathe with us our prayer,
Our prayer prayed here, joined to your prayer prayed there:
Who knows what radiant answer it may bring?
'God save the King!'
The Queen is dead. God save the King!
From all ill thought and deed,
From heartless service and from selfish sway,
From treason, and the vain imagining
Of evil counsellors, and the noisome breed
Of flatterers who eat the soul away,
God save the King!
From loss and pain and tears
Such as her many years
Brought her; from battle and strife,
And the inmost hurt of life,
The wounds that no crown can heal,
No ermine robes conceal,
God save the King!
God, by our memories of his Mother's face,
By the love that makes our heart her dwelling-place,
Grant to our sorrow this desired grace:
God save the King!
* * * * * * * * *
The Queen is dead. God save the King.
This is no hour when joy has leave to sing;
Only, amid our tears, we are bold to pray,
More boldly, in that we pray sorrowing,
In this most sorrowful day.
God, who wast of a mortal Mother born,
Who driest the tears with which Thy children mourn,
God, save the King!
Look down on him whose crown is wet with tears
In which its splendour fades and disappears--
His tears, our tears, tears out of all her lands.
The Queen is dead.
God! strengthen the King's hands!
God, save the King!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Mother world
World become so small and tiny
It looses its charm and entity
When woman attains motherhood
She has no appetite for self or food
Whole world, as if, has come to her lap
She remains unconcerned even if danger taps
Let snake pass near by but she is totally unaware
She has her own world to look after and take care
All great souls have used mother as sacred refuge
So the mother is called divine and status very much huge
"if I have to avail another chance" mother's womb will be preference
To remain in her womb for nine months will be great memory with presence
When God is remembered so is the mother along with same
All religious books are full of praises from where he came
For time being her love might have been shifted
Yet mother is symbol of affection and love as it is gifted
Why children love her more than father?
She is combination of both father and mother
At given point of time, you may desert sometimes
But mother in any woman never think of it any times
She is living god and exact replica of holy shrine
Kindness and love is the treasure of any feminine
Mother is mother and stands for courage altogether
She is embodiment and so is celled "mother
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Let us not mind the happiness...
Let us not mind the happiness and the grief that come our way,
For they are inseparable from our life.
None can evade them, for Lord Raghunath himself has inlaid them!
Let us not mind the happiness and the grief that come our way!
Even an upright man like King Nala, whose wife was Queen Damayanti,
Had to roam half-naked in the forest without food or water.
Let us not mind the happiness and the grief that come our way!
Even the mighty brothers like the Pandavas,
Who had Queen Draupadi for a wife,
Underwent hardships for twelve long and exacting years in the forest Without even proper sleep.
Let us not mind the happiness and the grief that come our way!
Even a woman as chaste as Sita,
Whose husband was none other than the Lord,
Was abducted by Ravana and subjected to suffer terrible misery,
Let us not mind the happiness or the grief that come our way!
Even the King as powerful as Ravana, who had Mandodari as queen,
Had all his ten heads severed and his great Lanka ravaged!
Let us not mind the happiness and the grief that come our way!
Even a person so righteous as Harishchandra,
Who had Taralochana as his queen,
Had to bear immense agony and serve in a menial caste!
Let us not mind the happiness and the grief that come our way!
Even an ascetic as great as Shiva, who had Parvati for his wife,
Was deceived by a bhil woman and had his austerities disturbed
!Let us not mind the happiness and the grief that comes our way!
When all the gods are in distress,
They remember antaryami, the lord of their hearts,
And indeed are rescued by the Sarangdhar, the bearer of the mighty Saranga bow, the Narsaiyya's Lord!
Let us not mind the happiness and the grief that come our way!
poem by Narsinh Mehta
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My Wedding Day
The Ice Queen, as everyone knows is my mother
a year after I left the Ice Queens dugeon I met
someonewe decided to get married.
I did not want to, but a invitation was to her.
THE ROYAL ICE QUEEN
MOTHER
r.s.v.p. stated will be able
I had been brought up in the
Catholic Church.
I had not been going to church.
So I felt like I did not have the right
to ask the church to bless
my marriage.
I would not experience the joy
my two sisters had.
Holding my fathers arm and walking
to the man I loved.
I would never have the memories of
hearing the words ''Who gives
this woman''?
And to hear my fathers answer,
'' I DO''
He was not there, the minute
I became a new wife.
He'd missed the most important
day in my life.
I know he did not do this by
his choice.
'' IT CAME FROM THE
ROYAL ICE QUEEN MOTHER''
herself.
My two older sisters had
beautiful church wedding.
My twin brother, brought
is then unborn son to his
formal wedding.
They were formal weddings
Gowns and Tucks.
All the silver trays
were pulled out for theirs.
The bar, was free you didn't
have to pay.
I love my sibling.
But why couldn't the
THE ROYAL ICE
QUEEN MOTHER
attend her youngest daughters,
little informal wedding?
But my little informal
wedding in that little
brown stone church
went on
.
It was a very beautiful
wedding.
on that very cold winter
night.
This all happened thirty
five years ago
We go each February
seventeenth.
We stand on the steps
and kiss and hug.
This has had happened for the
last thirty five years.
NO THANKS TO THE
ROYAL ICE QUEEN
MOTHER''
herself.
poem by Gayle Anne Goff
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Son Davie! Son Davie!
'What bluid's that on thy coat lap?
Son Davie! Son Davie!
What bluid's that on thy coat lap?
And the truth come tell to me, O.'
'It is the bluid of my great hawk,
Mother lady, Mother lady!
It is the bluid of my great hawk,
And the truth I hae tald to thee, O.'
'Hawk's bluid was ne'er sae red,
Son Davie! Son Davie!
Hawk's bluid was ne'er sae red,
And the truth come tell to me, O.'
'It is the bluid of my grey hound,
Mother lady! Mother lady!
It is the bluid of my grey hound,
And it wudna rin for me, O.'
'Hound's bluid was ne'er sae red,
Son Davie! Son Davie!
Hound's bluid was ne'er sae red,
And the truth come tell to me, O.'
'It is the bluid o' my brother John,
Mother lady! Mother lady!
It is the bluid o' my brother John,
And the truth I hae tald to thee, O.'
'What about did the plea begin?
Son Davie! Son Davie!'
'It began about the cutting o' a willow wand,
That would never hae been a tree, O.'
'What death dost thou desire to die?
Son Davie! Son Davie!
What death dost thou desire to die?
And the truth come tell to me, O.'
'I'll set my foot in a bottomless ship,
Mother lady! mother lady!
I'll set my foot in a bottomless ship,
And ye'll never see mair o' me, O.'
'What wilt thou leave to thy poor wife?
Son Davie! Son Davie!'
'Grief and sorrow all her life,
And she'll never get mair frae me, O.'
'What wilt thou leave to thy young son?
Son Davie! son Davie!'
'The weary warld to wander up and down,
And he'll never get mair o' me, O.'
'What wilt thou leave to thy mother dear?
Son Davie! Son Davie!'
'A fire o' coals to burn her wi' hearty cheer,
And she'll never get mair o' me, O.'
poem by Andrew Lang
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All Hail The Queen
The young girl
Dark chocolate
Sitting on her throne of abuse
Not her abuse
Theirs
The people who mock her
With names
An oreo
People say
Her guards fall back
She listens
To all the abuse
The young black queen
With cornrows in her hair
Just listens
A young queen
All hail the queen
The young chocolate queen
poem by Adeaze Tinkerbelle
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Nature's Bare Daughter
Eolian Amaranth, ethereal flower,
undying beauty born of eternal wind,
Flora's s precious seed,
The warm spirited zephyr made tender, turbulent love
to the fallen foliage atop the river's emollient sheets,
in a bed of pure spontaneity and sunlight you were conceived,
delivered to earth in a cloud burst of passion and nobility.
You are the bare daughter of existence,
Nature's rightful heiress.
Raindrops crystalized to give solid form to those
nonpareil flakes of snow reflected in your fingers and toes.
Lightning struck the dead, scattered leaves, and from the
ensuing flames they were granted new life, reborn, spun
by the phoenix into the autumnal locks of your brush-fire hair.
The contour of your ripened mouth was measured and marked
with the soft, summer blood of the cherry tree.
Your lips, those plump clusters of plenteous kisses,
came delivered by way of the vineyard.
The hazel tree donated the seeds and shade that
were to become your earth-tone eyes.
And burnished with the rarest of essential oils,
from Venus's mother-of-pearl womb,
your glittering body of silver and rose-quartz emerged.
Queen of infinite waters, on a throne of mineral and foam!
Empress of ever-extending sky, naked, in the sheer robes
of ultra-violet and cumulo-cotton!
Goddess of enduring gardens, a diadem of emerald leaves
and opulent red corolla, at birth, was placed upon your head!
Always, upon your arrival, a rapturously weeping dawn
lays out a carpet of freshly minted dew upon the land,
Forest Nymphs wash the dirt from your bare-feet, and
sweat from your tired brow with fountains of virginal rosewater.
Fairies masquerade as butterflies and banner the over head
azure with silk knit rainbows.
Song birds, the world over, can be heard unveiling newly
composed symphonies,
Far and wide tables are set,
replete with convivial feasts,
and all the world, at once,
my queen, becomes a coronation in your honor.
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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What The Captain Said
They made the fire so they want it to spread
the fire, the fire, the fire
They fan the flame to the forest bed
and the flames grew
higher, and higher, and higher
Remember what the captain said by the oceanside
where we took our ride
'We want no more soldiers dead, so come see us by the fire; '
Prometheus desire, the fire
by the fire, as the flames grow higher
We lay upon our riverbed, upon the Styx
the mosh pit Styx upon the pyre
Eyes wide, quartered dry, heads to the sky
and they watch the flames grow higher, and higher,
the fire
poem by Jay Bradley
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Queen of Kush
The queen of Kush
[you are my queen]
Keen and kind
The queen of ancient times
and the modern age
Her majesty
The beauty is her crown
And the wisdom is her throne
Her colour is fair and tan
Her glow is coated with gold
her eyes are source
for magic light of moon
Her secret tale of kigdom
is a talisman moot
her dark and black hair
twisted curly
as they loony and loose tail
tangled hair of her
And her walk is dance
and her dance is with rhythm
The rhythm of my drums
The queen of two lands
and two rivers of mine
The queen of highlands
and meadows lush of my lands
The queen; mother of mankind
Her majesty
The sovereign queen of Kush
her legacy is
The legancy of Sheba
and legacy of nefertiti
call her the QUEEEEEEEEEN! !
queen of KOOOOOOOOOOOOOsh
I call her the QUEEEEEEEn
of my heart!
poem by Sallam Yassin
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The Queen
The French Queen
Offered cake to the hungry
Marie Antoinette
The English Queen
Lost her head for her King
Anne Boleyn
The Russian Queen with no children
Loved cats a lot
Catherine the Great
The Queen of Sidewalks
Fell asleep at work
City Whore
The Queen of Computers
Fell asleep at the keyboard
Her identity is protected
poem by Jankovic Zoran
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An Epistle. Desiring The Queen's Picture, But Left Unfinished, By The Sudden News Of Her Majesty's Death
The train of equipage and pomp of state,
The shining sideboard and the burnish'd plate,
Let other ministers, great Anne, require,
And partial fall thy gift to their desire.
To the fair Portrait of my sovereign dame,
To that alone eternal be my claim.
My bright defender, and my dread delight,
If ever I found favour in thy sight;
If all the pains that for thy Britain's sake
My past has took, or future life may take,
Be grateful to my Queen, permit my prayer,
And with this gift reward my total care.
Will thy indulgent hand, fair Saint, allow
The boon? and will thy ear accept the vow?
That, in despite of age, of impious flame,
And eating Time, thy Picture, like thy fame,
Entire may last, that, as their eyes survey
The semblant shade, men yet unborn may say,
Thus great, thus gracious, look'd Britannia's Queen,
Her brow thus smooth, her look was thus serene;
When to a low but to a loyal hand
The mighty Empress gave her high command,
That he to hostile camps and kings should haste,
To speak her vengeance, as their danger, past;
To say, she wills detested wars to cease;
She checks her conquest for her subjects' ease,
And bids the world attend her terms of peace.
Thee, gracious Anne, thee present I adore,
Thee, Queen of Peace -- If Time and Fate have power
Higher to raise the glories of thy reign
In words sublimer and a nobler strain,
May future bards the mighty theme rehearse!
Here, Stator Jove, and Phoebus king of verse,
The votive tablet I suspend * * * * * * * * * *
poem by Matthew Prior
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black Sabbath
What is this that stands before me?
Figure in black which points at me,
Turn 'round quick and start to run,
Find out I'm the chosen one
Oh, No!
Big black shape with eyes of fire,
Telling people their desire
Satan sitting there he's smiling,
Watches those flames get higher and higher
Oh, No, No please God help me!
Is it the end, my friend?
Satan's come around the bend,
People running 'cos they're scared
Ya people better go and beware
No! No! Please! No!
song performed by by Iced Earth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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