In the event of a hostile assault,
storming a castle or surrender
of the garrison.
2. If you are going to be captured
(as hostage), first and foremost
stay calm. A cold assessment of the situation
will help to plan your actions
more clearly. Resist -
use interior items,
available weapons,
elements of beauty care
or desperation.
Remember: your goal is to not stay alive.
Do not question the free will
of (you and) people who favor you.
3. Hide (only) to convey
the message or to strike
the best shot. If found -
act aggressively,
make unexpected sharp movements,
do not spare your words -
try to personally insult
someone of the attackers.
It will change your position;
death is likely to be faster and more decisive.
4. Noisy screams attract attention
and make you a priority target.
5. Don’t trust men if they say
treacherous things. Do not be afraid to oppose them -
endanger yourself hastily.
Last. It may happen that you will not have
time to read the prayer at all or in
full. Therefore, those who need to be convinced
of the virtue of the immortal soul,
should have to take the habit to
daily, at a comfortable time,
confess before God.

Drawn up by
Voivode Stanko Yursha
Castellan Simon Chortoriysky

You leaving was a blessing in disguise
Made me realize who I truly am and how I should be treated
Knowing that I wasn’t being treated like a queen
But I have now found my castle and my own queen
She puts me on top and lays me down when it’s time
Making me feel safe as if I'm surrounded by a moat
But in all actuality you make me flood
Grabbing your voluptuous curves while they take me on a ride
You drive me absolutely wild
Stealing the literal soul out of my body while you satisfy my cravings
Knowing how to pierce me in all the right ways
Sending shocks through my body
Baby you will forever be my goddess

Oh how mighty
Our sandcastles once were
But now in their place
Only lay lost tomorrows
And never-to-be-hads

The snowflake is castellated cold,
Of chill crenellations and turnings narrow.
Court of pie-powders and gray-skied brazier smoke,
Of inner mazework dimmed to ****** holes,
Or the hooded machicolations from tower spire
Of oily darkness and arrowslits of Greek fire.

—

The snowflake is Medieval reliquary,
The frozen skull of rain and blood clear of sin,
Wind-captive with its prayer of quiet
On quietest lips, close to wine and sacrament.
Or the chapel and its waxen paramours
Of incorrupt body and candlelight upon the moors.

—

The snowflake is the mighty frozen spark,
Fire-forged and ironwrought,
Under the eye of Hephaestus,
Blacksmith of sorrow’s wind.