Pontian Scyth
Coal - dark nomadic eyes, under an icy sky,
a steppe robust stallion wild breed canters,
a sigil of Boreas wind, a whipping drizzle,
form of a gray tundra frost, white embrace..
Never obilated his destiny on own volition,
only exception maybe, his higher challenge,
to overpass his fortified scold ambition,
to master in a Gods forsaken earth's edge.
Army paid mercenary, a Pontian Scyth,
warrior of Byzantine deathly squadrons,
his aptitude close to Charon's brilliant myth,
a great honor is to be war-slain by sword!
Two wolves run to his side, ready to clash,
howl to infinity, Orthodox Crucifix contrite,
their obstinacy will redeem his sword's slash,
astute dark Charon will be a visitor to invite.
A Catafraktos, his Acritas rank embossed,
to challenge of the expiation, Olympus offers,
to those who heard the call, in white frost,
where glory in extend relies on deathly embers.
Her spirit glow, a swarm of corax, will foresee
not an ambiguous destiny, but one he knows,
his mortal form, her guidance gild, to repartee,
a cluster of Olympian Galaxy, in deathly vows.
A steppe advent in her dreams, his life slayed
a destiny where all gallantry gathers above,
to meet the precognition told, by a Pythian maid,
where her icy messages, became his love.
Boreas = Northern wind
astute = keen
Catafractos = the nights of Byzantine Empire
Acritas = Guards of the Byzantine border line.
Fought the enemy, sometimes alone, against many.
Pontian - Pontus = The coastal line around Caspian Sea.
repartee = cleverness in reply
Corax = Crow, the sacred bird of Apollo.
Pythian maid= The priestess of Delphi, temple of Apollo
.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Related quotes
Catafractos
Coal - dark nomadic eyes, under an icy sky,
a steppe robust stallion of wild breed canters,
a blowing Boreas wind, a whipping drizzle,
form of a winter tundra's frost, white embrace..
Form to oblate his destiny on own volition,
only exception maybe, his higher challenge,
to overpass his fortified scold ambition,
to master in a Gods forsaken earth's edge.
A cavalry paid mercenary, a Pontian Scyth,
warrior of Byzantine deathly squadrons,
his aptitude close to Charon's duel myth,
a great honor is to be war-slain by sword!
Two wolves run by his side, ready to clash,
howl to infinity, Orthodox Crucifix contrite,
their obstinacy will redeem his sword's slash,
astute dark Charon will be a visitor to invite.
A Catafraktos, his Acritas rank embossed,
to challenge of the expiation, Olympus offers,
to those who heard the call, in white frost,
where glory in extend relies on deathly embers.
Her spirit glow, a swarm of corax, will foresee
not an ambiguous destiny, but one he knows,
his mortal corpus, her guidance gild, to repartee,
to a cluster of Olympian Galaxy, in deathly vows.
A steppe advent in her dreams, his life slayed
a destiny where all gallantry gathers above,
to meet the precognition told, by a Pythian maid,
where her icy messages, became his love.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Tall like a scythe
All strange calls want to decry,
as my delusion will comply,
with blossoming my Crimson free,
splatter my odd kind of entity.
My winds are blowing benign,
every invitation a lonely sign,
of an afternoon's sunset toll,
or an alliteration's deign call.
My calls a sea gull's bluish flight
I invited you in lonely bight,
My role in life in vain Crusades,
orderly guided Angels Brigades.
I value my solitude in causes lost
One Apocalypse of imposed frost,
that fails to promote my crying
to iced lines of deathly line.
My logic divided a dual prism,
Ideal truth relies on this truism,
realities shine thus asunder,
Your advent is a Naiad's wonder.
A bluish fringe, hope's silken lint,
a scent of mountain wild mint,
Atropos unrolls a purple twine,
after my libation of crimson wine.
Words I expected from an angel,
in mind a crown on chapel temple,
maybe my love became a flower,
my vows have built a thorny tower.
So often I have fought for glory,
this is my asymptotic story,
a kiss to falter in dim despair,
my soul in prowess in ether's fare.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Vixere Fortes
A crossed path to pass, a false virtue,
a shadow wanders in dreams and cares,
to love my petrified smile of a statue,
and my abstract enigmatic stares.
She will come in stray paths, her soul,
dim time-entity to absorb internal whims,
one more silence will construct a thole,
a burden of tugs, to upwards hymns..
Spirit of solitude, image of form motile,
a double ax, a certainty above my truism,
her visceral caress, conceived but total,
ideal to endorse my sense of equalism.
A third destiny weaves my life's knit;
I recompense for her scythe dissonance,
a platitude to compromise in a gray wit,
my love in mind will be a senses dance..
So comforting was my eternal loneliness..
Presence of absence, an erred propriety,
Marriage proposal, an unfettered emptiness,
I was besieged for all my life to eternity.
And I accepted her, a mortal coil to marry,
This equality closed in, raised a challenge;
her wisdom guided me as I became airy,
to confront Hades burden and deathly wedge..
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Standing Athwart
The storm descended down the Straights,
it was Lorenzo fixing sails at the backstay,
me gangway, the bargermast'r Jim Bates,
working ropes, on mainsail aft and forestay.
Northern winds barked like dogs, the gust,
lifted the batten, boat tilted off to port bow,
lowered the cent'rboard and hull, to thrust
like a curse of Demons, on deathly draw.
I lost Jim Bates, suddenly as he unreeved,
went off; sea waves thrushed to sternway,
Lorenzo fought at the top-gallant, bereaved,
and Angelo Corto was holding timenoguy.
The steersman conned fine; me on th' ganwale,
to lower the spreader, even at a gust blow,
we had the mainsail torn, and guff-topsail,
to guide wind's force to the jib bendin' slow.
I saw them; It was abeam to starboard, dark,
heard eerie spells callin' Lorenzo off board,
blab out in void, on deathly mode to torque,
transfixed will, and I yelled, my voice barred;
Corto slowly dissolved, in dispirited lament,
strong manly skills, toughened on bearings,
collapsed, the steersman left the rope's extent,
as both followed the undefined ode pitching.
Alone I was, in an enchanted role to depart,
recalling a voice of melody, coastal Pacific,
to castigate destiny, top-standing athwart,
and it was that emptiness in heart, somnific.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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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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Boreas Wind
I shall carry your icon with me, I said
while my feeling on the wind, is spread,
a deity accepts my abstemious libation
without caring for my life's destination.
Sea waves, or songs beguile us, I said,
abut of a sea-shore to worship our dead,
an ornament to a dark Maenad's advent,
Because a stray dog barks to the world.
My words have fled along Boreas wind,
to reach a form, a dream, your silken glint
A glass spill of red wine oblation in mist
my soul flied, adorning your spent feast.
I recall your wishing lips, a smile of doll,
an image of a cumulus to carry my extol
Boreas blasted waving that mauve shawl
pain was obtuse, as my death enthralled.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Deep Blue
A solitude of ghostly spill, a dim dispersion,
forgotten sand in eternity's hourglass,
sailors distinguish this life as an obsession,
warriors so expendable, across surpass.
My obsequies in sea, a trinket of dispersion,
recall me lost in January, found in May,
my dreams convert my demise to affection,
and my epitaph became a crossed dismay.
Thud Thud, sounds in sleep, wind-sail-blasts,
She may be the ultimate mens beguile,
Impertinent of a deity, waves on masts,
With her ambrosian sovereign touch and smile..
Maybe I 'll fly with her above a lonely steppe
my solitude will dream of her, as I 'll hark,
word of a priestess form, Delphic corax step,
expended in Stygian terre oblong, as Hydras bark.
Oh, Mother of all my ailments, effusive in cold air..
You who had bestowed my analogy on earth,
and blue Naiads who solemnly, filled my stare,
deep blue I claimed you, in ocean's cold hearth..
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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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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Unknown Slave
Our destiny is before us, my friend
It is........like the unseen wind that blows through the heights
It is like the icy winter snow
falling down from the sky
It is like the brightest star
shining ever so brightly but only
a pin in the night
Our destiny is to be out there...........among the stars
to court the Moon herself
Like the most fleet of foot
like the most wise of age
the most strong of men
Our destiny is to be one with the
Universe
like the oneness that is between you and I
And even though are earthly form is of servants,
our spirits, one day, will run across the sky
Quick, before the master calls again
meet me outside so that we together
can look up at the sky
and maybe, just maybe
we'll see a sign
© 2009 by Kevin Howell
poem by Kevin Howell
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Merited Fiddle
Upon a beguiling, ocean course,
end for end, we bear up round,
a deathly toll, on path unfound,
reversing a wreak and recourse.
Travel with me far to your stare,
all of our promises up to extend,
all is possible on this time bend,
as we route on a dreamed fare.
Merited fiddle is the winds' virtue;
a night scope, snow icy gloves,
her Pythian oracle, from aboves,
ocean trips of dawn shine true.
A holy maiden, cared to caress,
our images of mind that escaped,
as then her wraith form draped,
a song on winds of deathliness.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Greatest Questions
Little boy;
What does thy know about destiny?
The poet;
I know but little about destiny
Little boy;
If ye tells me I know I will live life peacefully
The poet;
Destiny is like a wind which blows in the arabian sea,
Upon which it next direction is unknown,
You will see men growing greatly at their tender age but their next minute is unpredictable
Then, reverse it could be my former line
Little boy;
You mean destiny is like a deep wide sea
Which the direction you follow leads you any where
The poet;
Hey!
Brother we began our lives here
Tomorrow you may be richer than I
The creator has already created us before we exist
Little boy;
Then I will go to a sorcerer to foresee my destiny
The poet;
Destiny can never be look into
Even those who are summon
By the name foreseers
Do not know when termite will eat them
Little boy;
Can destiny be ever change?
The poet;
It can be change only with prayer
But my lord only give those he will
Little boy;
When shall we die?
The poet;
And so I laugh...
Death is inevitable
Non but my lord and those who had gone
Can talk about it
Little boy;
I mean
How will I die?
The poet;
For you know not where and how you were born
The the knowledge of
Where and how you will die remains with Allah
He creates the world and know every hidden things.
Little boy;
How can I live this world
The poet;
Boy!
Walk as if non is looking at you
Talk as if non is listening to you
Think as if you are thinking for others
Pray and make sacrifice
The Adder Stings
Adroit snake in serpents sweet curves
dances, my alluring senses to attain,
fizzes the victim's mind to nonsense
defenses of betrayed life in eyes domain.
Befitting of a danger's reversed count,
a mortal coil hypnotically becoming,
in an abyss, later, your lone shout,
your grave mistake in excess, crying.
Away, the wind dryly your land sweeps
and leaves, leaves like in dim, dreams
bind tight to add you up, in deathly bliss
a gild in Beatific wings, or dark esteems.
Venomous tongue, whips the air, fast,
cold eyes so infinitely look in your soul,
to traumatize eternally, a life past,
rainbow coloring of sky becomes of coal.
The Adder stings! An instant to realize
of lost lives torn that end in cackles
a Hydras barking shout slyly to edenize,
to bloviate a dark end in Hades suckles.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Destiny the Driving Force
Destiny is controlled by the mighty gods.
It swirls like a massive whirl pool.
No mortal being can escape it's hold.
Destiny controls our every action.
Destiny makes sure we take the right path in life.
Without a person taking a desired path the universe will go out of balance.
Balance of fate is essential.
The thread of destiny is so tangled that's why destiny is so uncontrollable by mortals.
Destiny goes around and around.
It never stops swirling.
Such an active force.
Mortal beings can't control what happens to them.
If it's negative or positive.
Destiny and fate are the same thing.
They intertwine when two people are in love.
Destiny carries people to their purposes in life.
It's a driving force.
Scientist can't figure it out.
It's the most complex thing second to the universe.
poem by Vega Destiny Star
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Warrior by Night
Centuries have passed
And still we mass
To fight for our kind to survive
By day live a normal life
A warrior by night
Ancient blood fued
Over the centuries fought
No end in sight
By nights cover we fight
Underneath the moons swaying light
Embrace the destiny we’ve been given
To authorities, no submission
Live forever, complete this mission
Without sunlight’s permission
Fighting in the nights passion
Mortal by day, warrior by night
For the same reason we always fight
The chance for our kind t survive
Spill blood of the innocent
Invade the thoughts of the magnificent
Embrace the chosen destiny
Act out your fantasy
Live like it was meant to be
Be unknown by day
Be a warrior by night
poem by Guarded Heart
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Chosen People
Glory is on our way[? ]
Worship the sun, great spirit.
Born of the mother earth,
Seek for the true white brother.
We are the chosen people, give back our sacred land.
We are the four grandfathers, a destiny for man.
It is written in our prophecy,
[it is written in our prophecy]
That we shall find the true white brother,
[we shall find the true white brother]
Who will help us, joined together, to build humanity.
There is a place for everyone.
We are the chosen people, give back our holy land.
We are the ever forest, we are great spirits hand.
She will call us soon,
She will shake her body,
Bringing your land to ruin.
Why will the world not hear us?
We are most ancient teachers, we know great spirits plan.
We learned by natures secrets, the inner side of man.
We are the chosen people, give back our sacred land.
We are the four grandfathers, a destiny for man.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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North Wind
LOUD wind, strong wind, sweeping o'er the mountains,
Fresh wind, free wind, blowing from the sea,
Pour forth thy vials like streams from airy fountains,
Draughts of life to me.
Clear wind, cold wind, like a Northern giant,
Stars brightly threading thy cloud-driven hair,
Thrilling the blank night with thy voice defiant,
Lo! I meet thee there.
Wild wind, bold wind, like a strong-armed angel,
Clasp me and kiss me with thy kisses divine;
Breathe in this dulled ear thy secret sweet evangel--
Mine--and only mine.
Fierce wind, mad wind, howling o'er the nations,
Knew'st thou how leapeth my heart as thou goest by:
Ah, thou wouldst pause awhile in a sudden patience
Like a human sigh.
Sharp wind, keen wind, cutting as word-arrows,
Empty thy quiverful! pass by! What is't to thee,
That in some mortal eyes life's whole bright circle narrows,
To one misery?
Loud wind, strong wind, stay thou in the mountains,
Fresh wind, free wind, trouble not the sea.
Or lay thy deathly hand upon my heart's warm fountains,
That I hear not thee.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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Unassailable Fidelity!
The horse never slept
Nor it lay on ground
His mind was battling
With the songs of swords
The challenges of the riders
The splash of blood
The pool of blood
The horse kicked
The horse of the enemy
Eager to cut the throat
Of his master on him
The horse trampled on
The dead on the battlefield
To take his master to safety
When the hissing sound of sword
Lashed at him like a storm.
The horse learnt the rule
The rule of sword
The rule of battlefield
The justice of killing
And the destiny of killed!
His master on him swing
With the sword socked with blood
Of the enemy cavalry
And enemy animal carriers
And moved fast to fix
The mast and flag
At the fort his master seized.
As the thunder and lightening
Deafened and blinded
The horse lost a leg
And the master had the wound
Gushing blood with all force
The horse leapt as a wind
And crossed the river
And fell on the river bed
And his master took his head
To put on his lap
To see the flash of life
Taking wings through eyes!
The horse had the satiety
Of saving his master
And serving him to keep alive!
poem by Vadakkumpurath Ramesan
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The Frost Spirit
He comes, - he comes, - the Frost Spirit comes!
You may trace his footsteps now
On the naked woods and the blasted fields
And the brown hill's withered brow.
He has smitten the leaves of the gray old trees
Where their pleasant green came forth,
And the winds, which follow wherever he goes,
Have shaken them down to earth.
He comes, - he comes, - the Frost Spirit comes!
From the frozen Labrador,
From the icy bridge of the northern seas,
Which the white bear wanders o'er,
Where the fisherman's sail is stiff with ice,
And the luckless forms below
In the sunless cold of the lingering night
Into marble statues grow!
He comes, - he comes, - the Frost Spirit comes!
On the rushing Northern blast,
And the dark Norwegian pines have bowed
As his fearful breath went past.
With an unscorched wing he has hurried on,
Where the fires of Hecla glow
On the darkly beautiful sky above
And the ancient ice below.
He comes, - he comes, - the Frost Spirit comes!
And the quiet lake shall feel
The torpid touch of his glazing breath,
And ring to the skater's heel;
And the streams which danced on the broken rocks,
Or sang to the leaning grass,
Shall bow again to their winter chain,
And in mournful silence pass.
He comes, - he comes, - the Frost Spirit comes!
Let us meet him as we may,
And turn with the light of the parlor-fire
His evil power away;
And gather closer the circle 'round,
When the firelight dances high,
And laugh at the shriek of the baffled Fiend
As his sounding wing goes by!
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Thermopylae 300
A merit of lonesome, Persephone's dark ocean
we received. A strong red wine, a wake of pain
that stings. A ghostly clad chorus, a lost odd zone
of Hades and Styx. A gloomy dim swaying
an abstract dull pain, I felt, an emotional strain.
One brink of sacrifice to feel this Charon sigil
as wrought spears pierce, as swords blunted thrust
to acompany this Styx quarry, comply our vigil
sweaty crimson trickles on shield, as lives combust..
Slay, thrust, pierce, a darkened Hydras' task force,
of Hercules, our Dorian ancestor to honor, and kill,
as Pluton, reins proudly the canter of his horse,
as sun sets to crown a new macabre of blood spill.
Three hundred rain drops, and two that remain
to offer again, a destiny altered, a deadly refrain,
denial spelled about my life, over her throne
and there cold air, is to betray, the death of my soul..
A mantle of arrows we wore, a lost last embrace,
a scattered emotion, a gathered devotion, away,
my fingers so callous of a never charisma to trace
there is nothing to encounter, a mist plea to obey
white of candor, a blanket of valor, so death will stay.
One thousand rain drops to bestow domain to fly
up in the clouds, Olympian Laws, this wild garland
passengers of time, the epigraph read, vows comply
in a Plutonian kingdom, a cold old endeavor of blood..
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Wild As The Wind (feat. Trisha Yearwood)
Johnny grew up
On the dark side of the law
Livin' in the shadow
Of the light he never saw
Rosie came 'round
In the way that true love does
Just when you're lookin' elsewhere
For the thing that never was
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
So they team up
And they traveled on thier way
Lookin' for forever
For every yesterday
She brings him hope
In the way that Angels do
Takin' him to heaven
In ways he never knew
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Every so often
He gets a stray look in his eye
She knows how to hold him
Without ever askin' why
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
song performed by by Garth Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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