Byzantine knight
Swordsman on a holy mission,
his destiny is an infused road,
promising a transitional upload,
ahead to Acheronian contrition.
Triumphant is in armor wrought,
Byzantine knight of firm caste,
Catafractos, bullocky to waste,
a glorious life of death sought.
'With thine emblem victorious',
blade hammered in blue flames,
carved upon, ancestors names,
whose kill was as meritorious.
Elevates his arms to eagle form,
beneath the wall hordes assail,
when Helios appears far to sail,
killed barbarians in blade storm.
Crimson spilled paints his face,
strings dawn to dusk great kills,
immense pride, Her Honor feels,
the warrior shields in her grace;
Maria of God, blesses to suffice
well set his valor of noble soldier,
matter of dignity not to moulder,
amid Castle and Hades sacrifice.
His blade lifts, hordes to behead
from right to left, lowers cutting,
so drubs again, cross thrashing,
Hades waits their end to embed.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Digenis Acritas
Pursued fromward eastern directions I stand,
an aeriform of the dawn comes to annunciate,
dark soldiers close in, borders to infiltrate,
to overkill farmers and our lands to demand.
I stand upon black turf, damp from the rain,
unfaithful disorderly horde closes to border;
the peace of pasture subsides to onset order,
and the waving of steppe horses black mane.
I slaughter the attacking impertinent mortals,
benevolently I send them to warriors' terra;
Crimson spills onto Tagma Flags of Porphyra,
and my face to dissipate on spring's portals.
The flag waves crimson in dawn, and morning
rises innocent from some euphoric nostalgia,
forsooth bless of Mistral liturgy and eulogia,
the orderly kills of barbarians and mourning.
A blissful Helios lifts to his vaulting course,
while the blade cuts the condemned to Hades;
Prodigious bless, the slaughtered mourn fades,
while honey bees buzzing muffles my remorse.
Dark form I am, on border's deathly fallow,
my tagma blade defines the oblation to earth,
ornis stare amazed at her insatiable dearth,
along this holy communion's denatured hallow.
Through this virtuous and triumphant passage,
slow I denature bleeding to an euphoric river,
I am a pasture of Argemones and dew of silver,
and I am the Mistral that carries my ravage.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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The Dead Soldier
Where the sword has opened the way the man will follow
'Look! they came, the triumphant army!
Over yon hill see their weapons peeping!'
Still I spoke not but my wheel sent turning,
I closed my eyes for my heart was weeping,
My heart was weeping for a dead soldier.
Who is he who looks towards me?
''Tis no man but a gay flag flying.'
Red was his mouth and his white brow thoughtful,
Blue his eyes—how my soul is crying,
My soul is crying for a dead soldier.
'Kneel ye down, lest your eyes should dare them,
Kneel ye down and your beads be saying.'
'Lord, on their heads Thy wrath deliver,'
This is the prayer that my lips are praying,
My heart is praying for a dead soldier.
'Best cheer the path of the men victorious,
For he is dead and his blade lies broken,
His march is far where no aid can follow,
And for his people he left no token,
He left no token, the dead soldier.'
The way of the sword a man can follow,
See the young child with his gold hair gleaming.
When falls the oak must the acorn perish?
He lifts the blade and his eyes are dreaming,
He dreams the dream of the dead soldier.
poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter
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Sacred Band II
Valor hails proud souls,
begotten from blue sky,
spirits amidst eagles fly,
advancing blade's calls.
War sanctuary receives,
Four Eons of sacrifice,
Styx throttles an excise,
steel Byzantine greaves.
Their wary eyes aggress,
odd souls to harbor life,
youth's conceived strife,
to glorious fight egress.
Hands tight on sword grip,
when valor starts to slay,
blood drops mix in clay,
as wrath of gods to drip.
Twilit earth last mound,
a Delphic omen, sullen,
avid fighters 've fallen,
killed on foreign ground.
Black dressed up maids,
for centuries don't cry,
in a quarry of labors try,
their agon never fades.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Lost Child At Dawn
I didn't write this one but I love it very much and I can really relate to it...
Cutting the final edges
from the form.
Loose change dangles
dignity forlorn.
Stake in heart bleeds forsaken
life away.
The blade turns and drains the
soul breath away.
Angel pass overhead and branches shake
out lies.
The blade sinks in
and fifth victim dies.
poem by Tiana Webb
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Johnny Blade
Tortured and twisted, he walks the streets alone
People avoid him, they know the streets his own
Cold blade of silver, his eyes they burn so wild
Mean as a tiger, societys own child
Go the tiger, burn in hate
You know you have to, johnny blade
Hes the meanest guy around his town
One look and he will cut you down
Johnny blade, johnny blade
Life has no meaning, and deaths his only friend
Will fate surprise him, where will he meet his end?
He feels so bitter, yes hes so full of hate
To die in the gutter, I guess thats johnnys fate
Rivals all across the land
He kills them with his knife in hand
Hes the meanest guy around his town
One look and he will cut you down
Johnny blade, johnny blade
Johnny blade, johnny blade
Well you know that johnnys a spider
And his web is the city at night
Hes a victim of modern frustration
Thats the reason hes so ready to fight
Hes the one that should be afraid
What will happen to you, johnny blade?
Oh he knows his futures decided
And he aint gonna change it, no way
He was born to die in the gutter
Hell keep fighting 'till the end of his days
Been alone all through his life
His only friend is a switchblade knife
Hes the one who should be afraid
What will happen to you, johnny blade?
You fool the people
Whos fooling who?
Its time to listen
Whos fool are you?
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My New Best Friend The Blade
i love my new best friend the blade
It cuts the pain away out of my body
I love my new best friend The blade
As i cut into my skin a smile appears
I love my new best friend the blade
As the blood drip from my bestfriend
I love my best friend the blade
It takes the pain away for a short time
Cant Wait to see my best friend
poem by Ari Castillo
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Six Blade Knife
Your six blade knife can do anything for you
Anything you want it to
One blade for breaking my heart
One blade for tearing me apart
Your six blade knife-do anything for you
You can take away my mind like you take away the top of a tin
When you come up from behind and lay it down cold on my skin
Took a stone from my soul when I was lame
Just so you could make me tame
You take away my mind like you take away the top of a tin
Id like to be free of it now - I dont want it no more
Id like to be free of it now - you know I dont want it no more
Everybody got a knife it can be just what they want it to be
A needle a wife or something that you just cant see
You know it keeps you strong
Yes and itll do me wrong
Your six blade knife - do anything for you
song performed by by Dire Straits
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blade There are worse things out tonight than vampires. Dr. Karen Jenson Like what Blade Like me.
Razor Blade Alley
Oooo I didnt talk too much, in fact not at all
But to ask for the price I was to be no fool,
Moneys no time to waste or to shoot up the wall
Yyou got the know how, the place did you take media school
She led the way from the alley back to her house
Must not be seen going in must not be seen coming out.
She said I looked mighty but thin
She told me im gonna give you a second helping
Oooo razor blade alley, Ive been there,
Razor blade alley neither of us cared
It was the prime time but the wrong place
It was my first time, I hope my last date
Im just to shy to check in, but this pain of these razors is cutting in
Oooh felt like a knight without shining armour on at the time
She thought she was in a dream, floating up on cloud nine
Now I awake,
She is nowhere,
But the razor cuts deeper everywhere.
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bladesmith Alchemy
He toils over fire fueled by coke
Forging a fine Damascus blade
Coaxes, cajoles, at last invokes
A sacred fire totem…unafraid
The Bladesmith knows;
Salamanders can pass thru fire
Unburnt/unharmed by such heat
A tempered blade its one desire
Lest, this fine sword be incomplete
Thru blade salamander does pass
Pursued by fiery flames from hell
Thru blinding smoke of sulfur gas
Mission done, he bids “farewell”
Revealed here the secret of 'Damascus Steel'
Perfected by one tiny amphibian's ordeal
(Inspired by Howlin Dervish)
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Catafraktos - Byzantine Knight
Anywhere under the sky, will be buried, a man,
ringing the bells to her Holiness, convent nuns
it would be an act of impiety, enslaved to live,
in a world of memories, to recall and strive..
Heavenly echo of a prelude Maria's smile benign,
his past of bitter shadows - dim hope to decline
in a cadaverous of dusk, slow the Nyx will reign
betrothal feast died in him, despite his deign.
He never dies; absurd the darkened call of winds
to stream a flow of relentlessness his life's bids
bestow, drops of useless red, his flow lingers,
by sword men only lived, and wounds' stingers.
Billeting Area on the Wall, Queen-Omnipotence
as Barbaric hordes attack her sacred Omniscience,
a Catafraktos, noblest of fighters, in manly duty,
offering his sword, to defend her solemnized beauty.
Strengthened will, warrior's to hammer actions
in a quarry of errands hard, lethal attractions
to conquer his deposit dry, of doom acceptance
or laugh in a world of Charon bets, paid in advance..
Soldier of Royal Highness, frames his darkness,
as Nyx descends, owls croak to, besiegers' madness
a man to comprehend, his Crimson shed to pallor
to live by honor, never withdraw, but die in valor.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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A Just State
Force us into abidance, in a just state,
So then peace reigns at the night of the day.
Sustain the godly tongue of doom,
It injures a mighty swordsman.
His weapon shivered as silver, the hilt,
The blade and everything is like a soldier.
Bold automatically, the knight of glamour
Is not brand new in vigour, a latecomer.
The wars of success are attributed failure
When knights solve their worst crimes.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Couplets
I am for Cutting. I'm a blade
Designed for use at dress parade.
My gleaming length, when I display
Peace rules the land with gentle sway;
But when the war-dogs bare their teeth
Go seek me in the modest sheath.
I am for Cutting. Not for me
The task of setting nations free.
Let soulless blades take human life,
My softer metal shuns the strife.
The annual review is mine,
When gorgeous shopmen sweat and shine,
And Biddy, tip-toe on the pave,
Adores the cobble-trotting brave.
I am for Cutting. 'Tis not mine
To hew amain the hostile line;
Not mine all pitiless to spread
The plain with tumuli of dead.
My grander duty lies afar
From haunts of the insane hussar,
Where charging horse and struggling foot
Are grimed alike with cannon-soot.
When Loveliness and Valor meet
Beneath the trees to dance, and eat,
And sing, and much beside, behold
My golden glories all unfold!
There formidably are displayed
The useful horrors of my blade
In time of feast and dance and ballad,
I am for cutting chicken salad.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Blade You better wake up. The world you live in is nothing but a sugarcoated topping There is another world beneath it. And if you want to survive it you better learn how to PULL THE TRIGGER
The Power Of Thy Sword
Lord of battle I pray on bended knee conquest by the rising sun
I'll wait for thy command with flame and blood at hand
glory and a broken sword.
I'm the master of the world I have no fear of man or beast
Born inside the soul of the world
Riding hard breaking bone with steel and stone
Eternal might I was born to wield.
Let us drink to the battles we've lived and we've fought
Celebrate the pain and havoc we have wrought
Great heroes charge into the fight
From the north to the south in the black of night
The clash of honor calls to stand when others fall
Gods of war feel the power of my sword
Drink to the battles we've lived and we've fought
Celebrate the pain and havoc we have wrought
Great heroes charge into the fight
From the north to the south in the black of night
Fierce is my blade fierce is my hate born to die in battle
I laugh at my fate
Now pay in blood when your blood has been spilled
You're never forgiven death is fulfilled !
The clash of honor calls to stand when others fall
Gods of war feel the power of my sword
The clash of honor calls
I will stand when others fall
Open magic doors
The will know the power of my sword
There is blood in my hands there is blood in my eyes
With blood in my voice I scream as you die
Thirsting for vengeance and mounds of the slain
Shaking the forest onto the plain
Fierce is my blade fierce is my hate born to die in battle
I laugh at my fate
Now pay in blood when your blood has been spilled
You're never forgiven death is fulfilled !
The clash of honor calls to stand when others fall
Gods of war feel the power of my sword
Know the power of my sword
Know the power of my sword
Know the power of my sword
Know the power of my sword
They will know the power of my sword
song performed by by Manowar from The Triumph Of Steel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Scarred for life
Scarred for life, no one would know
Broken inside, her self esteem so low
Scarred for life, inside & out
No one hears, her silence so loud
Scarred for life, blade against her skin
Pain feels so good, just another sin
Scarred for life, covered bruises
Fight after fight, her dad never loses
Scarred for life, so torn up inside
All these lies, too many tears she cried
Scarred for life, these will never heal
Knife in her back, pain is all she feels
Scarred for life, will this feeling ever fade
No friends left, only a blade
Scarred for life, she has to stay strong
Music's all she has, this story is her song.
poem by Scout Kerr
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Blade of fate
The blade of fate lay over my neck forceful and blatant
Cold But withered like a willow tree whistling like a raven
Black and sharpened with the thorn of my heart pierced through my body
Thee knows my quarrels and thee knows my pain that indeed I am hearty
For the fate
of the blade
that lay Hovering over me bares my ever growing load of her rose that is heavy laden.
Oh the blade of fate has wearied me upon the the deathly road I take for nothingness is where I'll lay in.
A field of my fate is where I lay and where I hear the call of the raven.
poem by Daegonius Bonapartea
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Lines On Captain Wogan. To An Oak Tree
To an Oak Tree, In the Churchyard of --, In the Highlands of Scotland, Said to Mark the Grave of Captain Wogan, Killed in 1649.
Emblem of England's ancient faith,
Full proudly may thy branches wave,
Where loyalty lies low in death,
And valour fills a timeless grave.
And thou, brave tenant of the tomb!
Repine not if our clime deny,
Above thine honoured sod to bloom,
The flowerets of a milder sky.
These owe their birth to genial May;
Beneath a fiercer sun they pine,
Before the winter storm decay-
And can their worth be type of thine?
No! for 'mid storms of Fate opposing,
Still higher swelled thy dauntless heart,
And, while Despair the scene was closing,
Commenced thy brief but brilliant part.
Twas then thou sought'st on Albyn's hill,
(When England's sons the strife resigned),
A rugged race, resisting still,
And unsubdued though unrefined.
Thy death's hour heard no kindred wail,
No holy knell thy requiem rung;
Thy mourners were the plaided Gael;
Thy dirge the clamorous pibroch sung.
Yet who, in Fortune's summer-shine,
To waste life's longest term away,
Would change that glorious dawn of thine,
Though darkened ere its noontide day?
Be thine the Tree whose dauntless boughs
Brave summer's drought and winter's gloom!
Rome bound with oak her patriots' brows,
As Albyn shadows Wogan's tomb.
poem by Sir Walter Scott
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Wolves
(Wolf Howls)
I'm not a hunter but i am told,
that, uh, in places like in the arctic,
where indiginous people sometimes might, might, hunt a wolf,
they'll take a double edged blade,
and they'll put blood on the blade,
and they'll melt the ice and stick the handle in the ice,
so that only the blade is protruding,
and that a wolf will smell the blood and wants to eat,
and it will come and lick the blade trying to eat,
and what happens is when the wolf licks the blade,
of course, he cuts his tongue, and he bleeds,
and he thinks he's really having a good thing,
and he drinks and he licks and he licks,
and of course he is drinking his own blood and he kills himself,
thats what the Imperialists did with us with crack cocaine,
you have these young brothers out there who think they are getting something
they gonna make a living with,
they is getting something they can buy a car,
like the white people have cars, why can't i have a car?
they getting something they can get a piece of gold,
white people have gold, why can't i have gold?
they getting something to get a house,
white people have a house, why can't i have a house?
and they actually think that theres something thats bringing resources to them,
but they're killing themsleves just like the wolf was licking the blade,
and they're slowly dying without knowing it.
thats whats happening to the community, you with me on that?
thats exactly, precisely what happens to the community,
and instead of blaming the hunter who put the damn handle and blade in the ice
for the wolf,
that what happens is the wolf gets the blame, gets the blame for trying to live,
thats what happens in our community,
you don't blame the person, the victim,
you blame the oppressor, Imperialism, white power is the enemy,
was the enemy when it first came to Africa,
and snatched up the first African brothers here against our will,
isss the enemy today,
and thats the thing that we have to understand.
(Clapping)
song performed by by Dead Prez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Razor blade
Razor blade razor blade
Sharpe glass shards
Knife blades
And all things sharpe.
These are my only friends
They slice into my flesh
Crimson blood flows.
Blood and sharps
Their my only friends
Razor sharp
To cut my skin
Get the badness out
Leaving trails of blood
Many scars left behind
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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