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The rose in front of me
often seems like is
the cherry picked one
treasured in the most epic hunt.

Down the blue sky
the clouds get clear over time
and the truth shows up:
It’s no invention.
A made in heaven pair found on Earth!
Now Ritacene had too, followers, who would go on and build Raxon around her and her fields
Lady of Order, she bore twins- Abreh and Esseneh, sons which would assist in making animals
Abreh thought of animals and how the would work- their cycles, families, species, and yields
Esseneh felt of them and how they run, gallop, breed-  all the fish, birds, reptiles and mammals
One day, while visiting their aunt Phalgacene in her realm Phaxon, she gave them a challenge
‘Work as one, and as one you may work- make me, your aunt, a perfect and splendid animal’

Abreh, who took the challenge with most seriousness, thought of perfection in the form of life
He thought of arms and hands that create like Palcion, yet can destroy like that of Retisbon
And so of legs, chest, and a mind that though like him- so much so, Abreh became a brain
Esseneh, who took the challenge with most seriousness, felt of perfection in the form of life
He thought of an animal who can love like Lady Abro and forget like King Chazan of the sky
And so of heart, emotion, lust, greed, and want- so much so, Esseneh would become a heart

Phalgacene looked unto his two nephews and was shocked, worried, disgusted, and scared.
Shocked to see the mind of Abreh in its truest form, and so the the heart of Esseneh as well
Worried that in this most vulnerable state, the two would be injured yet immortal, forever in pain
Disgusted for Abreh’s thoughts and ideas gained movement, and Esseneh bled all over her
And scared that if Ritacene where to see her sons, she would be forlorn and upset for them
When the Lady of Order feels forlorn and upset, her fields dry out- the Malzaphaiatan riot

When the Lady of Order weeps and is cast down- the Zapharagaz are startled and stampede
In these the earth quakes and shakes mountains, and the sea torrents and kills countless
For though Phalgacene is the Lady of Chaos, Ritacene is the Lady of Order- disorder is chaos
For when Ritacene is angered, her sister comes to calm her, and brings her chaos to her order
When Ritacene is sad, he sisters comes to console her, and brings her war to her peacefulness
When Ritacene is sad and refuses to eat, Phalgacene comes to feed her- which starves many

The Two Ladies’ sororal love for eachother sing a song of nature and its harmonies and rhythm
When the Lady of Chaos seethes, spears grow like grain from backs of Malzaphaiatan herds
And the Zapharagaz dock and sail her navy unto the walls of nations- beating their stone down
As Phalgacene seethes, Ritacene comes to reason with her- and brings diplomacy to her wars
When Phalgacene hunts down other spirits, her sister stops her, and saves slaves from hunters
When Phalgacene speaks of destruction, her sister eases her, and delivers men from calamity

And so as to not dip a world in its infancy still- so delicate, so new, and so innocent- in chaos
Phalagacene sought to save the brain of Abreh and heart of Esseneh from eternal anguish
In her forge in which she used to cast the molds of her spears, swords, maces, and dirks-
She waxed its walls, heated its molds, and poured blessed bronze into its cavities hollowed
The mold she made to the designs of Abreh and Esseneh- who spoke of them so frequently
That the words had carved themselves into the walls of her court like instructions to follow

She planned to take the brain of Abreh and set it on the perfect bronze head to save it and him
She planned the heart of Esseneh to go to the perfect bronze chest to save both it and him
The bronze lay liquid and she left for it to set. She took Abreh and Esseneh- brain and the heart
She put them within jars of jeweled glass filled with water from the stream of Palcion, the Infinite
The stream from which Palcion uses to moisten the clay from which he molds all things from-
This water from the stream protected the Brain of Abreh and the Heart of Esseneh from pain

Meanwhile, in Ayar, Da’raan- King of Demons, first of the Great Demons, was much debauched
Trapped within the realm of the nothing of nothings in their fortress in the acid lake of Mizharyan
Da’raan and his legionnaires, the Bahalzaryan- pass the centuries brewing wine from acid water
They brew the rust that is shaved from their spears and ferments it in the waters of Mizharyan
From this, a wine that can burn through ones entrails is made, and is strong enough for Da’raan
Forlorn with Phalgacene’s rejection, he throws all the spears in Mizharyan and brews them all

Old spears and new ones sink to the bottom of the acid lake- its acid rusting them all to nothing
And in the span of a day, lake Mizharyan has fermented completely into the strong acid wine
Da’raan, in his sadness, sings of his woes and worries and hearteach to Lady Phalgacene
‘You trusted me with your best men, o Lady of Chaos. And in war, your life was to me as mine.
Foolish of me to think you thought of me more- merely one below your command and sword
I desire not only for you- but for your pride in me. Foolish men rarely gladen without good wine’

And so Da’raan drank the entirety of lake Mizharyan, which at this point was no more than wine
As the banks and bottom revealed itself, a spear unrusted stuck from the ground below them
One of the Bahalzaryan descended to it and to retrieve the spear, which was Da’raan’s spear
When it was dislodged from the ground, it revealed a spring that sprung and refilled Mizharyan
Da’raan wanted to mine iron to rust and make more wine, but the Bahalzaryan stopped him.
‘My Lord, you are in drunken haze- walk off your stupor and allow Mizharyan to heal its banks’

Da’raan , with the fair Phalgacene in mind, wandered out of the realm of Ayar much aroused
His face reddened and his clothes grew tight- Palcion distracted and Retisbon who was blind
Did not notice the Demon King walk drunkenly out of Ayar and into Phaxon- chaos’ domain
He wandered into her court, unseen to her true legionnaires due to the stench of acid wine
There he found Phalgacene casting a body of bronze for her nephews, Abreh and Esseneh
She was unaware of da’raan’s presence, for she blessed the bronze that set in the molds

Da’raan called for her and expressed his love ‘Lay with me, Lady of Chaos! Bear me a son!’
‘Da’raan! Heresiarch and King of Demons! Do you remember not? You are exiled from Phaxon!’
‘Lady of Chaos, I desire your pride in me! Leave me barren, but I will leave thee not, o love!’
‘I shall **** thee, Da’raan!’ Da’raan, thoroughly drunk, mistook her threat for an invitation to lay
The drunken King of Demons disrobed, and Phalgacene who has not seen men, stepped back
It seemed Da’raan had unsheathed a monstrous spear. Defenseless, she thought to evade him

In her pursuit, Da’raan leaped and ******* into the liquid bronze as it set and hardened.
Still in drunken stupor, the Demon King could not pursue Phalgacene any longer and fell asleep
The bronze body hardened, and the sleeping Da’raan was escorted out of Phaxon, back to Ayar
Phalgacene, ignorant of the new addition, assembled the body and  put Abreh and Esseneh in
The new being was twice as immortal as Abreh and Esseneh as was known as Abresseneh
He returned to ritacene, who loved his new son more than her old twins, and thanked Chaos

Abresseneh then created a new animal- man and woman. He would create them all in sets.
He made them in sets, for as twins he was created, and in his image were these animals made
Though these sets were not bound by anything, not even by family, blood, or name- poor things
And so man and woman are cursed to find the other, wed them, and complete the divine set
Descendants of three gods- Ritacene, Phalgacene, and Da’raan- humanity has this ultimatum
Mighty like Phalgacene, humanity may use his might to serve Ritatcene or serve Da’raan

Though humans are true descendants of Ritacene, their bodies are of Da’raan’s tainted lineage
In this, man’s conscience and morality pulls him to the Lady of order, their true mother Ritacene
Also in this, man’s body, desires, and vices pulls him to the Demon King, corruptor Da’raan
And so my students- Barzan, Valkar, and Homet- behold the story of mankind and his origin
Our creator father Abresseneh, son of Ritacene, Phalgacene, and Da’raan- calls us all by name
Do we use the strength of Chaos within us to serve Order or Evil? Preach this as you write of it.
the third part of the book of eebrhu, this poem details the realm of hell ayran, the obssessive love of da'raan for phalgacene, and the creation of mankind.
‘Write this down, and read these out to anyone who will listen- listen to the tale of Phalgacene’
Phalagacene is the twin of Ritacene, both very beautiful, for they resemble one another
Ritacene’s beauty is magnified by her grace, compassion, kindness- around her, cities are built
Phalgacene’s beauty was charismatic. Despite her many sharp teeth, she inspired others
Now the creation of Palcion and the destruction of Retisbon created a process so strong-
That spirits lesser to the gods yet greater or equal to man were born from the friction of the two

These spirits sought power for their place in the world, and like plants, attached themselves-
To kings, to men, to lovers, and to fools. The wiser sought to seek the gods and their power
These spirits sought power for their own power, out of rocks they hewn and trees they felled
Cities of divine magnificence for their object of worship- these cities would soon begin to tower
One of these cities was the realm of the twin of chaos, Phalgacene, to where the end welled
Her followers took up spears and swords, not for war, but to honour her teeth and power

The legions of Phalgacene were fearsome and powerful, and defended her divine city, Phaxon
Among them most obedient, but among them radical, boisterous, full of vice, and most immoral-
The Bahalzaryan, led by Da’raan, courted Lady Chaos, pined to wed her, and bear him a son
She refused, and in this, he was angered, so rose to foolishly threaten a Chaos that is immortal
And so with her meteors with chains spanning all of space called for and faced Da’raan head on
He, with his Bahalzaryan, were defeated and they were banished from Phaxon forever more

Da’raan led his men to Chazan, who for them opened to grant them audience with Retisbon
In the darkness of the primordial court of the Twin Creator and Destroyer, they bowed to latter
And asked ‘Great ratisbon of the Limits, grant us a home, for your daughter has orphaned us!’
And in response, the great on took out his hand and carved a hole into ‘nothing more after’
It was dark and was the nothing of nothings- there he threw the Bahalzaryan in a ******
It was empty, so empty as it was the nothing of all nothings- and so as this hell, forever empty

And so the fate of Da’Raan and his legion of exiled Bahalzaryan- the first of hell’s legionnaires
And their master, the first great demon- Da’raan the Heresiarch, who disobeyed Phalgacene
In the new realm within the nothing of nothings- a hell named Ayar, filled with fire and acid air
Within Ayar, the memory of every battle and war plays out forever in endless strife and misery
Within Ayar, to protect himself and his army, Da’raan built a fortress in the acid lake Mizharyan
And so the tale of Phalgacene and her legions, and Da’raan and his men, the Bahalzaryan
the second part of the book of Eebruh, the poem lays the foundation for the spirits of the world, their worship of the greater gods predating human worship, and the concept of hell and the first of the demons.
Oh dessert zephyrs- take me, whisk me away from the vice of man and his cities
Take me to the dunes and caves- where I shall sleep on stone and eat locusts and honey
Oh desert zephyrs- fend off the men and who pursue me- for I detest all publicity
Oh desert zephyrs- send my prayers to Lady Abro, and tell her to take me soon and quick
For I took refuge in the heat of Chazan’s hearth- to burn off thoughts of lust and money
Oh desert zephyrs- belay my prayer; they’re here to stay. Bring us then to eat- bread and milk

And o, they say they follow me into the dunes of the Jashad, there are three of them here
The first- offered me his sash and fine clothes. I say that we are here now here to turn away from that
The second- offered himself to me as ganymede. I say we run and from lust to steer clear
The third- his treasure- I valued the most. He offered me his obedience. Night came, and we sat
And as we sat, I told them why I came to Jashad. ‘I came to seek Chazan and his heat’
‘And also Lady Abro and her patience.’ for the day is short and the night is long, very long

For as soon as we have come away from Ritacene, Phalgacene comes and meets us head on
And I dare not stay in the fire of foolish men when the night ends and dies to the fires of dawn
But much is lost in the play of the Twins, for now let me tell you their tale, my dear new friends-
Ritacene is the goddess of all that is order, and her twin Phalgacene, the goddess of all chaos
They mirror their father and uncle- Palcion and Retisbond- he who brings life and he who ends
Retisbon of the Limits cannot bear child- so Palcion bears twins, and gives Phalgacene to him

Palcion’s creations all float at random. And so Ritacene, with her many hands, arranges them all
Retisbon strips them of being, so Phalgacene chews them with her many sharp teeth for death
All that is created was a thought by Palcion, which were then designed by Ritacene’s many hands
All that dies is called to come to Retisbon, and their bodies torn apart by the jaws of Phalgacene
And so, all that Ritacene designs is order, which is a vision of nature and its divine creation
And to resist her designs is a tune of chaos, to which man marches to the jaws of Phalgacene.

As to not upset her sister, Phalgacene swore to swallow those who live and die as she designed
As to not starve her sister, Ritacene gave those who resisted design for her to chew and devour
When men live in peace, we live by the design of Ritacene and so die gently by Phalgacene
But as you see, man has used the designs of Ritacene for crime, greed, lust, power, and evil-
And so, Ritacene shall grow angry and Phalgacene shall grow fat and the darkness will follow
The rhythm of nature will be obscured and war shall overcome- the wrath of the Twin goddesses

Lady Abro and Chazan, the sky King, and their children- the seasons- will take ear of Ritacene
Times will grow dark just like the Sky- Winter and Autumn shall fatten as their siblings grow thin
The darkness and cold shall go one for longer, while summer and spring will never yonder!
Man cannot eat his gems and gold, nor his women and slaves, though he could go on and try!
Man cannot come to his governor, for the coward has fled, with the city’s coffers and food!
Man will **** man for what little is left, and  what little is left for man- a banquet for Phalgacene

‘In the desert, he sit on the lips of Phalgacene. There is already little to begin with, yet some live’
I take a cactus by the hand and break it open for the three- ‘here is our water, and this- our food’
I take a locust and put it in my mouth. ‘Here lies the realm closest to Phalgacene.’ I tell the three
‘Yet in this realm, we are safest- for the food of the twin of chaos will go over our heads’ I said.
‘Go back!’ I tell them. ‘Go and bring back only what I tell you: Your names, papyrus, and reed’
‘We shall jot down the history of the world and all that ever has and will!’ I'll tell them.’

They brought back their names- the three where
Barzan, meaning calligraphy
Valkar, meaning letters
Homet- meaning ‘meaning’
three scribes stood with their master,
Eebrhu, whose name meant language
A book of foundations by the desert religious leader, Eebrhu. Along with three students, Eebrhu set out to make a poem of the history of the world and of the gods. In this first chapter, the relationship of the Twin goddesses are explained.
In the hearth of all and none,
there stood two-
Who were as one
In the hearth of all and none
There stood two-
who too, where none

Both, like eyes, to a thought not yet thought
The two stood there and were-
And yet at the same time- were not
But one awoke, and in awaking bore thought
And from then on the thought of not,
Was there, and forevermore, all but naught

The other, angered by the thought
Stood and and found his brother awake
And from there the birth of twins
Of blindness and seeing, of knowing and sleeping
He was thought, life, existence and being
He was not, death, nonexistence, nonbeing

And the awoken named himself Palcion, meaning infinite
And from there he ran across the none and brought being
From here to there, he brought what, whos, hows, and wheres
And he named his brother Retisbon, which pertained to limit
And he followed his brother- picking up the things he made and left
All his whats, whos, hows, and wheres- stripping them of being

And then Palcion grew tired, and went to sleep on his brother’s lap,
Retisbon, still awake, guarded his brother in his slumber-
And in his slumber, he stripped all his creations of being
Upon Palcion awakening, Retisbon then grew tired, falling too on his lap
Palcion, then awake, guarded his brother in his slumber-
And in his slumber, he thought to continue to make and make

Retisbon awoke, across his brother now, who then was busy making-
In front of Palcion, all he made, which Retisbon thought of breaking-
He made, he broke- he gave being, and he stripped them of it-
And so the myth of  Palcion the Infinite, and Retisbon of the Limits-
Being made into all, and all soon stripped of being- the first of all natures

And from this came time,
And from that came worlds,
And from there all that will ever be in it.
the creation myth of a mythology known as the Epic of Ioleksa

this is the first part of the first analects of winter
Hermes Varini Jun 30
Airn-Wanderer

Waes Ah! Waes Ah!
Beguid an’ Great Orrah!
Lookin’ yondir! lookin’ yondir noo,
Afore avidly, unco avidly
Drank Ah! Great Warlike Orrah!
The Gowblat o’ Noble Precious Gowd:
Gleamin’ Gift Purified, IT!
Frae Noble Valhalla Rairan
Wi’ ITS Metal Fiery Soul,
Orra Substance, orra Schorcin’ o’ mine!
Grabbin’,
Wi’ Black Leather Glove
O’ Total Dazzlin’ Whyte-War,
Fyre-Flowin’, the Verra Northumbrian Mead!  
Livin’, Tasty wi’ Pow’r, Great Warlike Orrah!
Niflheim-Watery, IT!
Frae yon Norþan-hymbre!
Frae Hel Itself Delicious,
Unco dyrinkin’, downe the hatch!
Hynne Ah,
My by-gone Days left orra Aflame:
Great Vision! Great Bellum! noo dyin’ o’ mine!
Whyle still waes hynne Ah
Thro’ the Bare Highlands Dreary
‘Yont South Ruins’ Burnan Wa,
Deep-Wanderin’,
In search for the Verra Lightnin’!
O’er Thae Cauld Moorlan Heights hynne,
Leisurely, implacably, Great Warlike Orrah!
Amyd Hye Rocky Smeddum all abowt me
Strollin’,
Intae the Verra Mirk Unfathomable,
Airn-Flesh o’ mine, hynne
Throwin’,
An' my Wise an’ Bold an’ Proud!
Sensual Noble Dame,
Gerðr galdrs Scho!
In Lang Robes o' Deep Crimson Fyre
Her Superior Womanhood,
Full an' ardently Sinuous!
An’ Verra, Verra Soul,
Unco tightly, wi' Norland Passion
Profoundly Wemenlie o' Hers!
Shrouded,
Scho saw me! Scho orra saw me!
Noo, wi’ Courage Ablaze an’ unco Wreððe
Ascendin’
To orra desire! to orra possess,
To hae IT! To unco hae IT! back again!
My ain Lost, the OVERMAN'S HIS-SEL!
Great, Great Mjölnir's Warlike Orrah!
Wi’ Bluish Skye-Gore, frae Thae Cauld Heights
Imbued

Thundir-Bluid

To feel IT hynne! To unco feel IT:
Great Guid Warlike Orrah!
Total, unco Total, in Full New Skye-Gore IT!
Verra, Verra Thor-Hye!
Rumblin' Skye-Destruction o’ mine!
Hynne Total Skye-Rebirth O'erhuman,
An' the Roaran', unco Skye-Roaran', IT!
Great Kvasir's Warlike Orrah!
Supreme Transformation!
Wi' the New Skye-Knowledge Scorchin'
Owre, owre imbued!
An' in the Soarin' Zenith-Fyre
Deeply, deeply hawkan IT, hynne!
Thro' Thad Cauld Moorlan Secret
Ah am noo about to owre yell,
Frae the Thundir's yon Rumblin'
Verra, Verra Skye-Pride!
Intae my Veins Fiery
Fore’er an’ e’er, wi’ Ragin’ Skye-Bluish Hue
Noo flowin’,
Com on! Com on, hynne!
Dearest Mountayn-Thunderbolt o’ mine!
Taukin’ Ah noo am to ye still!
Struck me deep! struck me orra deep!
Whyle Ah still unco climb
Thad Cauld Rocky Soil,
Whyle Ah still unco tell
Thad Vision, most Solitarie o’ mine,
Whyle Ah still restlessly, implacably seek
My ain Lost Skye-Sel!
The Hye Person o' the OVERMAN!
An’ ye! Sweyt an’ Scaur Enemies, not Quhone all ye!
Ye still cannae, cannae hear?
Yell an’ Furious Bellum, aye!
Frae Loud Thundir-Voice o’ mine?
Skye-Crash frae my Battle-Wounds IT,
Wi'in yer ignoble ears noo!
Unto the Sacral Open Blue
Risin’ unco Freed!
Ye still want to *** to orra Heaven?
Hynne, heyre Ah am!
Com on! Com on! All ye Cowards!
Thys is whate Ah orra cam for!
Fecht me! Hand-to-Hand Strang!
Do signal the Attack!
Glitterin’ Skye Axe-Blade o’ mine winna, IT
Cease to wait to orra shatter,
In a single Thundir-Blow, all yer Targes!
Ye want still to unco give
Unto Enraged Airn o’ mine, Wonner IT, lo!
Yer Hand-to-Hand, hynne Feudal an’ Essential
Battle-Bluid?
Wha hynne want to be the First?
Wha hynne ready is noo to unco taste
Frae my Verra Skye-Airn noo Skye-Flashin'!
Gunnþinga Called, IT!
Hys, alongside the Skye-Foreign, Nadir's ain!
Miserable, tae earthly, tae human Defeat?
Fecht Ah! for the Glare an’ Hye Glory O'erhuman
Frae Bein’ o’ Pow’r!
Hynne heyre glowran at ye Ah unco stand!
Wi’ Great Clan-Vermillion Wyld Wraith o’ mine
Hye, Norland-Fair, an’ orra Warlike!
Wi’ Battle-Axe o’ mine gleamin’,
Unner yon War-Glare, ne’er, ne’er settin’,
An’ the Sunne’s ain Disc Refulgent,
Unto the World,
Richte, orra Ancestral an' Warlike Richte!
Greatly Flamin' Fiery Curse!
An’ He cam! the Thunderbolt at length
Unto me He orra cam!
Thus struck waes Ah!
My Flesh, an' Bluid, an' Spirit!
Intae Thor's ain Skye-Force
At once turnin'
To orra greatly, unco see
The forerunnin’ Presence noo devastatin’
Frae twa, IT! in Primal Wreððe

Skye-Essences
Or
Strang Sunnes

When, Beguid an’ Great, Great Warlike Orrah!
Out-owre Hye Mountayn Glade, sic unco Wide:
The Cauld Vitrified Fort  
Wha's Sharp Surroundin' Gleamin' Wa
Thro' Hye Heat Monumental generated!
TAP O' NOTH waes,
In Thundir-Bluid an’ Frame,
An' further unco Skye-Imbued Ah!
Wi' the Earthly Unidentified Energy
Frae that Towerin' Verra Steid,
Noo still walkin’,
At length thare surveyed hynne Ah,
Wi’ Fyre-Sight, Deep-Penetratin’ IT,
An’ Auldfarran, Lucid Reason o’ mine,
The Heaven’s Blue Verra Vault:
Proud Storm-Shrine, Dearest o’ mine!
Ane wi’ my Sky-Rage Hye,  
An’ the Atmosphere, waes IT, waes IT,
Intolerably close, yet unco Potent, Heimdall-Divine!
Hynne beheld Ah, lo!
TWA ESSENCES O’ FYRE!
Intangible, Untouchable, Impenetrable, baith They,
O’er the Whole Uranic Skye-Arch,
Their Skye-Dominion an’ Primordial Skye-Dignity
Unco haudin’:
The Essence o’ the ΛOΓΟΣ an’ the Essence o’ the REAL, They:
Twa Tangible SRANG SUNNES,
Intense Meanin’ baith They
Embodyin’,
Afore thys, thro’ Verra Lowe penetratin’,
An’ wi’ Hye Thundir-Gore
Awa, awa flowin’ IT, orra!
Loneliest Vision o’ mine,
When, Great Thundir’s Orrah!
Wi’ a speed Wicked yet Prodigious, lo! Sublime,
Closer, closer, wi’ the Impetus frae Twa Skye-Rams Wyld
They orra cam!
An’ in a Common Skye-Embrace!
Their Dazzlin’ Blades o’ Vibrant Steel!
Hynne crossin’,
Whileas the Stellar Wynde silently ensued
Frae Thad Last Titanic Encounter an’ Battle,
Wi’ unco deafenin’ Core-Clash,
Frae Thor’s His-sel, again,
The Whispered Warlike Voice!
Hynne intae Ane Nucleus Whyte
At length blendin’, afore unto me
Noo orra comin’ IT:

The Blinding

For rendered orra, orra sightless!
Waes Ah noo,
Yet still able to distinctly behold,
An’ e’en deeper, unco deeper! Great Warlike Orrah!
The Verra Dazzlin’ Core, IT!
Wi’ Verra Bluish Flash, an’ the Skye-Gore
Frae Thundir-Eyes noo o’ mine
Sheer Sharp, IT!
For the Vision o’ the OVERMAN,
Orrah! Great Warlike Thundir’s Orrah!
Unco Profound IT waes!
An’ unco killed IT the Unprepared,
For waes IT for nae Unworthy Skellum  
To Feud an’ Sword Foreign!
An’ the Whole Wnivers, in a Verra Flash,
Thro’ the Same Auld an’ New Thunderbolt
Ah waes lookin’ for,
Penetrated IT orra waes:
THE HERACLITEAN, DEVASTATINGLY PROPHETIC, IT!
FIERY SKYE-FORCE!
FRAE THE VERRA AIRN-PERSON
STEEL-CONCRETE, IT!
DAZZLINGLY 'YONT-TELLURIAN AN' SKYE-CENTRAL!
O' THE OVERMAN:
THE 'YONT-HUMAN HYNNE NOT HUMAN!
THAD LIKE CONQUERIN', RAGIN' WHYTE-FYRE,
WI'IN THE YIELDIN' MURKY MIRK VOID SHINES!
INCANDESCENT O'ERHUMAN VERRA BODY!
THAD MINE AIN, AH KNEW,
SUNE AN' SYNE! UPON THAE BENS DREARY,
IT SHALL, GREAT GUID ORRAH! BE!
AN' WHA'S NOBLE AN' SOLEMN NAIM
HYE! HYE! THE ETHER'S AIN SKYE-SUBSTANCE
INTAE ALL-FERVID LOWES AN' METALLIC BRILLIANCY
TURNIN'

ΥΠΕΡ-ΚΕΡΑΥΝOΣ

WAES! THUNDIR-CONSCIOUS, AN’ DIRECTIN’,
THUNDIR-DESTROYIN’, HYNNE CRAETIN',
O’ER ALL THUNDIR-DOMINATIN’,
TO THE INFINITE UNCO THUNDIR-GROWIN’,
MINE AIN BLUISH MOORLAN BLUID
TO THE INFINITE ORRA THUNDIR-FEEDIN’,
Together hynne wi’ my Arteries o’ Skye-Blue
In Baith Spirit an’ the Verra Flow,
When orra struck again waes Ah!
Unto Verra Death, an’ e’en ‘yont! waur e’en waur!
Skye-Waur, Great Warlike Orrah!
Towardis the Verra Dazzlin’
Skye-Weregild o’ Gowd,  
For the Loneliest Vision o’ mine
To in Fyre, still unco blinded Ah!
Distinctly behold,
At bein’ hynne, Great Warlike Orrah!
The Sole Ironclad Witness
O’ my by-gone Path Aflame,
Intae ‘Yont-Human Will o’ mine!
Noo unco forged, Great Hye Orrah!
Unto the Auld Bluid-Rock o’ Rebel Sacrifice
Far awa! in the Snowy Caucasus
Nae longer IT chained!
Meanwhile, lo! At my Mirk Cloaked Back,
Behold ye! Another Identical Skye-Fusion!
For Twa Dazzlin’ Whyte Glows,
Symmetrical Unco Mirrors They,
As if frae Myrddin’s ain Magic,
To View o’ mine orra appeared:
Perfect Pow’r o’ Infinite Reflection, They!
Mine ain Past, my ain Future!
Baith embodyin’,
An’ waes still Ah!
Intae the Verra Middle o’ the Glare
Standin’
Wi’ Gleamin’ Claymore drawn, Dearest o’ mine!
Thundir-Hurt still, afore noo the

Destroyer of the Past
Or
The Iyce Cross

An’ noo, Guid, Verra, Verra Guid o’ Gowd
Warlike Orrah!
Thus willed Ah! the OVERMAN!
Freish an’ Auld! Airn-Feudal an’ Strang!
Wi’ Michty Inner Energy o’ mine
Great Feudal Orrah! unco Alone!
Wha's Hye Naim OVERWILL
IT unco waes!
Sacral Dazzlin’ Chain Mail:
My ain! HE unco wearin’,
Thus willed Ah! Past o’ mine back IT!
In Person o’ HYS empowered:
GORY GHAIST! by-gone Immortal o’ mine IT!
Still orra Alive an’ Fiery!
Flowin’ an’ flashin’
Thad not Identical unto ITSELF IT waes!
Hynne unto ITSELF most identical!
When in Feudal Airn-Flesh o’ HYS,
Great Warlike Orrah!
Thro’ Ragin’ Skye an’ Earthly Pride at once IT,
Most fleshily, intae Hye Fyre Purifin’
Waes incarnated,
Thus willed Ah, Future o’ mine, tae, hynne!
Wi’ the Iyce Cross o’er Moorlan Coat o’ Arms,
Frae Noble Dundarg’s Hye Wa,
In Feudal Steel, Greater, unco Greater IT!
Shimmerin’,
For the Past lived in the Verra Bluid o’ HYS,
Thynce thro' Hye Fiery Gore Immortal:  

FULMINE VICTOR
MAGNUS INVICTUSQUE
OVERMAN

Let me Thys, NOBLE GLAMIS’ GREAT ORRAH!
Truly, unco truly yell! waes IT potentiated,
An’ sae waes the Future, still my ain!
Unto Dazzlin’ Airn-***** o’ mine
Wi’ Increasin’ Ocean’s Rage Tempestuous
Fore’er returnin’,
Intae Single Will O’erhuman
An’ Unforgivin’ Continuum, as Ane,
Whar Ye! Dearest Hye Thundir o’ mine!
At the Verra Skye-Zenith,
Still silently dwell!  
Hynne willed Ah! my ain Image
Frae the Past! Frae the Future! wi’ unco Force,
At once IT emergin’,
Towardis the Past! Towardis the Future! wi’ orra Dignity,
At once IT rushin’,
Intae the Implacable Spiral o’ Becomin’
Thad Ane wi’ the Verra Vortex o’ Return
IT! Great Warlike Orrah! waes,
The Past burnin’, the Future hynne IT affirmin’,
An’ unto the Verra Skye-Core!
GREAT HÖÐR’S AN’ WOTAN’S ORRAH!
Directed,
Noo afore my ain wi’ Fyre Wounded Eyes,
Thro’ each Revolution, ITS unco Strength,
Great Warlike Norland Orrah!
Unto the Fathomless Fiery Infinite
Increasin’:
The Verra Mountayn Thunderbolt!
Ah waes lookin’ for,
For the Increase o’ Pow’r ne’er Identical
Unto itself IT waes,
Hynne waes unto Itself most identical!
As noo met wi’ Ah

THE DESTROYER O’ THE PAST,
THE CREATOR O’ THE FUTURE,
O’ LYFE FORE’ER CHANGIN’
THE GREAT AFFIRMATOR,
HYE SKYE-VEINS O’ HYS
O’ERHUMAN, MY AIN!
THE IRONCLAD INCARNATOR
AN’ THE FEUDAL WITNESS!
O’ MY BURNAN MOUNTAYN-PATH
DYIN’:
THUNDIR-FRAME O’ MINE, HE!
STRONGER! STRONGER!
O’ER AN’ O’ER,
UNTO MY BY-GONE DAYS BLEEZAN,
AN’ THE ROARAN’ FUTURE!
AS MOLTEN SKYE-GOWD INCORRUPTIBLE
NOO RETURNIN’,
WHAR IMMORTALITY ITSELF HYNNE,
IN FORE’ER INCRESIN’
HYE FYRE AN’ BATTLE-GORE,
O’ERSHADOWED IT WAES,  

For, lo! the Verra Blank frae the Past
Together wi’ ITS Inevitable Feud-Foreign Woe
Hauntin’
Thad cannae be avoided hynne!
Mirk an’ Invisible, IT!
It nae longer existed! It nae longer existed!
For unco filled noo IT waes
By the Devourin’ Lone Lowe an’ the Verra Frame:
The Chain-Mailed, Heated in Airn War-Wame
O’ THE OVERMAN! HE:
WILL, AS THE VERRA INNER ENERGY!
VIGOUR, AS THE VERRA INNER WILL!
FRAE THE PAST, FRAE THE FUTURE!
TANGIBLE, VISIBLE, INCARNATED,
NOBLE WYLD DRAGON,
SKYE-BEAST O’ MINE,
FYRE-WOUNDED IN NAE GOWD-CAGE, HE!
FLYIN',
WI’ HYS SKYE-GORE O’ER THE BARS INVISIBLE
TRULY MINE AIN! GREAT GUID ORRAH!
DOWNE, DOWNE! NOO
LIKE THE PUREST RHODIUM
WI' THE FYRE-BLUISH
SKYE-ARTERIES O' THE LONE THUNDERBOLT
AH WAES LOOKIN' FOR
AGAIN UNCO BLENDIN',
Unto at Braemar the Verra Battle-Gore,
Afore the Lang Hour, in Kyng Eochaid’s
Martial Hidden Lore,
By the Force o’ Flowin’ Lava
Frae the Cauld an’ Dreary Highlands Implacable
Echoin’
Thad Becomin’ as Increase in Pow’r
IT, Great, Great Orrah! waes,
Backwards intae Tyme! Intae the Future hynne!
For the OVERWILL kan IT!
Destroye the Feud-Foreign Gory Bygane!
When o’er the Gleamin’ Skye-Cuirass
O’ the HYE OVERMAN ALONE!
IT lies visible an’ yieldin’ an’ razed an’ burnin'!
When o’er the New Soil o’ Dazzlin’ Alabaster
Conquerin’
Intae Deep the Future, thro’ Renewed Rage
An' yon Incandescent Skye-Thundir!
Ah waes lookin' for,
HE! My Specular Skye-Incarnation!
Fore'er orra creates!
Whileas thae words, in Roaran’ Wreððe,
Flame-Wounded,
Ah still loudly whisper,
But lo! Great Warlike Orrah!
THE IYCE CROSS FIERY
O’er Mirk War-Tartan, Dearest o’ mine!
Next to Dundarg’s Hye Wa, Ah well remember!
Embroidered,
Close to my Ruby Brooch strangely IT,
Unco strangely, like a Verra Premonition
Gleamed, afore noo

The Mirror-Fusion

When, lo! Airn an’ Thundir!
Great Immortal Warlike Orrah!
Thro’ the Loud Whisper o’ the Thundir
Ah waes lookin’ for,  
The Image o’ the OVERMAN
Detached ITSELF, lo!
Frae baith the Surfaces
In the Twa Opposed Mirrors,
Frae the Past! frae the Future! Great Warlike Orrah!
To encounter Spirit Ablaze o’ mine,
To Unleash Wyld Beast Immortal
Thad My Verra Mountayn Path  
Guarded still,
Some Bluish Bluid Stains IT leavin’
O’er the Michty an’ Pure Glass still:
My ain! frae the Clash o’ Life,  
An’ noo! Great, Great Warlike Orrah!
A LIGHNIN’-SHADE IRONCLAD!
Unto me, ITS Skye-Bluish Garb o’ Hye Skye-War!
In an Identity an’ Heat, e’en the Most Absolute!
To Verra Perfection reflectin,
Towardis Feudal Person o’ mine IT noo!
Wi’ Slow Skye-Gait,
Devastatingly, IT advanced,
An’ when afore me at length
IT standin’,
Thro’ the Loud Sound o’ the Thundir, lo!
Ah waes still lookin’ for,
In a Great Whoosh an’ Roaran’ Rumble
Non-Human Deep Voice, IT!
Frae the Past! Frae the Future!
Frae the Verra Brunan’ Throat
O’ the LIGHTNIN’ HIS-SEL!
Ah waes still looking for,
Wi’ Spiral Exhalations unner the Form, schorcin’ IT!
O’ Just Anger frae Primeval hynne Most Real
Forgotten Feudal Lore
The Hand-to-hand Wapin-Storm Harsh!
An’ Skye-Revenge, still Mine Ain!
Unco an’ owre loaded,
As Maddenin’ Heated-Airn, IT again!
Unto the Cauld Blue Vault o’ the Verra Skye
Wi’ orra, orra Dignity
Lonely risin’,  
Thae Verra Syllables! the INCARNATOR o’ the

Voice frae Hye Heat

The Skye-Conscience, O’erhuman o’ mine!
Most distinctly! Great Warlike Orrah!
HE, THE BLUISH INCARNATION HYE
O' THE HYE LIGHTNIN' ITSELF!
Ah waes lookin' for,
Wi' a Skye-Cowntenance Storm-Hidden
Flashin’ frae Deep the Obscured Skye-Mirk
Thro’ a Battle-Scar intae the Fyre gleamin'
O'er HYS left Sword-Offended Cheek:
Thys cuid Ah! unco Blinded, see!
Intae Deep the Skye-Unknown,
Still, Great Guid Glamis’ Orrah!
Stick-an-stowe a Wonner, Mine Ain!
Thro' HYS remarkably Echoin',
Non-human, hynne 'Yont human!
VERRA SKYE-RUMBLIN'!
Noo unco earthily uttered:

YE, WOLF-WOUNDED!
AN’ PROUD, IN BLACK TARTAN O’ WAR
MUFFLED,
DO NOO LISTEN TAE ME!
BRANDED HAE AH
RUDDY SKYE-FLESH O’ MINE
THAD WAES, IS, AN’ SHALL IT BE!
BY THYS VERRA, VERRA SKYE-IMAGE HYNNE,
YER AIN!
WI’ THE IYCE-CROSS FIERY
FRAE HYE THE THUNDIR’S LOUD VOICE,
IN NAE WHISPER DAMNABLE, NOR AIRN-FOREIGN!
AH NOO ORRA TELL:
YER SPIRIT AH, CORE-FLESHILY AM!
ABYSMAL LAVA-BLUID O’ MINE!
FLOWIN’
FRAE HYE RED HEL, IT! THY LANE BEHOLD!
YER AIN!
INTAE DEEP THE FUSION-GLARE,
BLASTED SKYE-FURNACE IT!
UNREACHABLE, UNFATHOMABLE, MOST TANGIBLE, IT!
THE VERRA FRAME
LESURELY, NEXT TO YE IN BATTLE
STROLLIN’!
THE LONE INCARNATION
AN’ THE SKYE-ROAR
FRAE THE VERRA THUNDERBOLT
YE WERE LOOKIN’ FOR
HYNNE YER FUTURE, YER BYGANE:
NAE DIFFERENCE! THAA ARE MINE AIN!
INTAE THE HYE FYRE, FRAE YER TANGIBLE
SKYE-WILL! THAD AH NOO HEARE AM,
FOR SKYE-ENERGY CANNAE DERIVE FRAE NOTHINGNESS!
NOR UNTO NOTHINGNESS KIN IT RETURN!
HYNNE WILL, 'YONT DEATH,
THRO' THE LANG AN’ BLUISH
SKYE-LOWE
YE WERE LOOKIN’ FOR,
IMMORTAL AS CONQUERIN' PROVES,
STILL, WI'IN RAGIN' AN' VISCERAL
DEEP PRIMAL FYRE, YER AIN!
FOR YE SHALL STILL LIVE YER LIFE AGAIN,  
THIS TYME INTAE THE HYE SKYE-POW'R!
WI' ITS NEW ESSENCE SELF-OVERCOME,
HYNNE DO UNCO LIVE NOO!
THAD VERRA GORE HEARE,
FRAE MY BLEEZAN OPEN SCARS, YER AIN!

When noo, Great Warlike Orrah!
Upon thae Verra Words, thro’ my Ain
By noo Thundir-Voice!
Ah distinctly hearin’,
A Thoosan Black Banners, in Fyre,
HE, hynne Ah issuin’,
When noo, Great Guid Orrah!
The Skye-Bluid o' the OVERMAN:  
This! oan Thae Countless Mirk Banners floatin'
In Hye Honour o' the Zenith-Sunne!
Wi'in abysmal whyte runes waes noo graven,
Hye Selective an' Skye-Supreme proved!
Nae, nae IT, for all!
For nae everybody is worth withstandin'
The Return o' Pow'r's Noble an' Flashin'
Supreme Force an' Infinite Speed an' Spiral Revolution!
For intae Thae Rapid Coils o' Glorious Fyre hynne,
Nae for all! Immortality is solemnly worth
Thro' the Perennnial Growin' Skye-Rebirth!
Unto ragefully Bluish-Ablaze an' Core-Feudal
Noble Hye Perfection!
An' in Eternal Steel Unconditional, IT!
Dwellin',
The Human, tae Human!
Gory Chains o’ Promethean Slavery
Bluish wi’ the Verra Reverberation
Frae the Lightnin’ O’erhuman
Ah waes lookin’ for,
They suddely becam!
An’ at length, Great Warlike Orrah!
The Lonesome Blindin’ Frame o’ Gowd,
Wha’s Sole Hye Thundir-Naim

Overman Skye

IT orra waes! Frae the Twa Dazzlin' Mirrors
In Perfect Symmetry emanated wi’in
The RETURN O’ POW’R!
Burnan’ Vortex-Event Universal, IT!
In Slender Lines o’ Whyte Fyre,
The Verra Core Heat
Reachin’,
Intae Infinite Reflections o’ Primordial Pow’r
Frae the Twa Lookin' Glasses, Blindin' They!
O’er All, Great, Great IT!
Njörður's ain Battle Orrah!
Limitless Dominion, an’ the Feudal Rule
Steel-haudin’,
An’ ITS central Rays an’ the Verra Lowes
Intae Ane Flashin’ Ironclad *****
Polarizin’,
A Thoosan Tymes Greater, Mightier hynne:
The OVERMAN!
O’er an’ o’er unto me returnin’,
‘Yont the Reddenin’ Pillars o’ Immortal
Skye-Renown!
‘Yont Death, the Mirk Unknown!
An’ ITS Feud-Foreign Fear,
Whyle, lo! the Steel-Vibration gleamin’
Frae Máni's ain Verra Crescent,
Dusky-Red, IT!
Waes, waes, in yon Murky West
Still IT unco risin',
Unfathomable, an' Potent, an' Dreary,
Unto the Stane Circles’ Builders
Wounded frae Life, at Skara Brae,
Appearin’,
At right angles to the Chain-Mailed *****
Noo orra descedin’
To cross the Region o’ the Heart:
Let IT fall intae the Verra Abyss!
Yet the Shadow! Yet the Shadow!
IT still leisurely stood,
In Hys Mirk Bluid Bleedin’,
Crossed hynne by the Verra Thunderbolt!
Ah waes lookin’ for,
An’ Hys, frae Kyng Rædwald the Gift!
Mask o’ War IT, lo!
Wi’ Black Fyre bleedin’,
Upon the Cauld Soil, together wi’ Hys Cloak,
Waes IT thrown,
Hynne Hys Mirk Warlike Self unveilin’,
Still Mine Ain!
Nae Gory Fear to owre hide:
SCEAD UNDER HELME HEARD.
Divided into distinct narrative phases, each with its own title, this poem of mine illustrates the story of a wanderer, of Scandinavian origin, in the Highlands of 11th Century Scotland, the narrator himself, as searching for and as at length meeting with the Overman, that is, with the necessary very incarnation of the Beyond-Human, through an ultimate specular identification with the latter. The tone is archaic Scottish and highly conceptual with, possibly, some experiments in the language. Fundamental philosophical notions of mine are thus propounded, with the last verse entirely in Anglo-Saxon, and with a reference to the Sutton Hoo helmet, hence to king Rædwald of East Anglia, as accordingly mentioned. Each title is directly linked to the text. “Skye” means “Sky”, in further reference, also, to the Isle of Skye, in the Inner Hebrides. "Ah" is Scottish for "I".
Elymaïs Mar 8
When the Saracen had been overcome,
We seized great numbers of them,
either killing or capturing them,
as we saw fit.
Our Princes also ordered the Saracen
Dead to be cast outside, because of the
great Stench, since the whole city was
filled with their Corpses.
Lo, the living Saracens dragged the
Dead before the exits of the Gates
and arranged them in Heaps
as High as Houses.
No one had ever Seen or Heard
of such a Slaughter of
People.
Pyres like Pyramids were formed
from them, and no one truly
knows their number,
except for God.

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‡‡‡   GOD'S KINGDOM   ‡‡‡
‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡
‡‡‡   PART ONE   ‡‡‡
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Lo, and the Flames of Battle
still Roared through the narrow
Streets as Dusk fell on the
Holy Sepulchre.
The Crusaders touched the Ancient
Stones of the Church with their
Fingertips as they entered the
Courtyard.
The approach of the Darkness
Obscured the ****** Fingerprints
which they left.

Godfrey of Bouillon, Mighty
Commander of our Crusader
Host, lifted his hand and we
Halted.
He, who sold his Lands and
Crowns in order to raise our
Swords in the name of the
Lord,
Who, having relinquished all
his Worldy Wealth and taken
up the Call of the Cross, now
Stood,
With his mortal eyes upon the
very Tomb of our Lord and Saviour,
Christ.

"Behold, Brother," said Eustace,
the Count of Boulogne and the
Elder Brother of Godfrey our
Prince;
"The Lord has granted you an
Appanage," he declared before
the Tomb of our Vindicator,
Jesus.
"For there is no Man here nor
in the Halls of the Pope's Palace
who will deny who the rightful
King should be."
"You have raised the captive
Jerusalem from her sullen, shackled
State."

Godfrey turned, Acknowledging
the Words that Eustace had
Spoken, for he Saw in their
Eyes —
Those who had Followed Him,
Those who had Done as he Had,
Who had taken up Sword and
Service;
"It is not to Me that you owe
your Fealty, my Friends, but
Firmly to the Name of
God."
"I am a Simple Servant, a Sinner,
Who seeks solely to Serve the
Sepulchre."

"Lo," said Tancred the Norman,
of the House of Hauteville;
"There is no Knight who would
object;"
"You have led us across the
Lands of Europe and Asia,
to the Foot of the Sepulchre
of Christ."
"Your Conduct is most Honoured,"
continued He to speak.
"Unlike that of your Younger
Sibling."
"How I wretch at the thought of
Him! How deeply it pains Me
To remember his Conduct at
Tarsus."
"Lo! Let us remember Those
Three Hundred Normans, which
he allowed to fall victim to
******,"
"Having turned them away at
the Gates of the City which I
had Delivered unto his hand in
Righteousness!"
"Surely, you are much more
Deserving of this Land's
Crown, moreso than that
Wretch."
"He has abandoned the Cross
of Jesus Christ to make a name for
Himself."

Eustace and Godfrey, the two
Elder Brothers of the one of
whom Tancred spoke, became
Cross.
Though Baldwin, the wayward
Sibling, had indeed Transgressed
against Tancred at Tarsus truly
Terribly,
His Deeds had Dashed any Doubt
of his Devotion to the Divine
Justice which they had sought to
Deliver.
For Baldwin, Christly of Character,
was Begged by Bagrat the Armenian,
who asked for his Intercession in his
Homeland.
"You shall speak no more ill of
my Kin," said Eustace, the eldest,
for his brother Godfrey was far too
Humble.
"Did not the Lord of Edessa,
Theodoros the Kouropalates,
adopt Baldwin as he were his own
Son?"
"Did not the Faithful of the
Land of Armenia raise their
Swords in his Support and
Praise?"
"I beg of you, Blessed Knight
of the House of Hauteville,
Be Still of your Injurious
Instigation,"
"For I will hear no more of it."
To Eustace of Boulogne belonged these
Words.

Robert the Norman, Son of England's
Conqueror William, and the Ward
of the Fiefdoms of the Viking,
Rollo,
Stepped forward with Robert the
Fleming, Inheritor of the Land
of Flanders which was once Ruled
by Ironarm.
"There is no Purpose in this Quarrel
over these petty matters, my Friends,"
offered the Norman these Words of
Peace.
"We have won a Great Victory
in the name of our Almighty Lord,
God."

Robert the Fleming agreed with his
Norman comrade. Their sentiments
were shared by Gaston, the Count of
Béarn.
Godfrey was relieved that once more
the Peace had been restored among
the Company of Crusaders in that
Courtyard.
The Darkness that encroached did
very little to mitigate the Levantine
Heat.

"Lo," said Godfrey. "Truly if
there is no Other you wish to
offer the Crown of Jerusalem,
then,"
"I will defend the Holy Sepulchre
with all of my Might, so help me
God."

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‡‡‡   GOD'S KINGDOM   ‡‡‡
‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡
‡‡‡   PART TWO   ‡‡‡
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Lo, and two nights had passed since
the Fall of the Fatimid Forces at
the very Gates of God's Stronghold,
Jerusalem.
Christian Knights who had Nobly
and Fiercely Fought alongside one
another, from many Lands, now
Stood,
Sanctioned to Save the Sepulchre
by the Hand of God in Gooodness,
Victorious.

From their Princes a Parliament was
called to determine the fate of the
Lands which had been at Long Last
Liberated.
To fail to mention the Famous
Names that made up that very
Council would Cruelly Cut their
Praises,
And rob them of the Righteous
Renown that is Known to be
Owned by them — a truly heinous
Act.

There was Raymond of St. Gilles,
the Count of Tripoli, who had
Routed the Assault on Antioch
Bravely,
Who had been at the Discovery
of the Holy Lance which had pierced
the very Side of our God in Flesh,
Christ;
The Crusaders, having heard of the
Finding of the Lost Lance of Longinus,
were compelled by the Holy Spirit to
Victory.
To fail to acknowledge his presence
Would be to fail to acknowledge a
Hero.

There was also Galdemar Carpenel,
A follower of Raymond of St Gilles,
Who had siezed Cayphas for his own
Governance.
Surely he deserved such a Righteous
Reward for his Courageous Campaign,
But,

There was also Tancred, who had seized
the Lands of Ancient Galilee from the
Sniveling Saracen Scoundrel, Al-Mustali
Billah.
Of Tancred I should speak most
Fondly, for his Skill on the Field
of Fighting was Forged by his own
Hand;
Son of Emma and Odo the Good,
Nephew of Bohemond of Antioch,
Tancred was a fine fellow of excellent
Nature.
He was patient of Heart, which
Only increased his Prowess in the
Art of War, granting him much
Insight.
He was known for his Diligent
Execution of Manoeuvres, and
to Him a great deal of Honour is
Owed.
Surely Tancred has earned his place
at the Right Hand of the Almighty
God.

Blessed Gerard was there was well to
Represent the Christian Hospice of
Jerusalem. There was also Anthony of
Arsour.
Savary, a Learned Lay Preacher, would
serve as the Pontiff's eyes on the
Council.

"Surely," proclaimed Godfrey, Ordained
Overseer of Our Lord's Own Lands,
"We must Establish in these Lands our
Laws."
"The Fatimid Caliph, Al-Mustali Billah,
Saracen Scourge of the Sacred City, still
Prowls."

"It is without Question," proclaimed Tancred,
in support of his Clever and Courageous
Commander, "that the King must wield
Authority."
"All the Estates for which we have laid
Foundations and Fortifications, for the
defense of the land of Jerusalem, are
Yours."
"And, surely," continued the noble Norman
Tancred, "not one man here will object to his
Obligations."

Blessed Gerard and Savary would bow
their heads in agreement to the Norman's
Cause.

"Indeed," added Anthony of Arsour,
a loyal servant of Godfrey while on
Campaign.

"I must raise the issue of Cayphas," said
Galdemar Carpenel, a mighty Crusader
of Christian Virtue and Dignity. He
Stood,
Acknowledging Tancred, his rival, and
said, "I secured the city of Cayphas from the
Saracen, but Tancred claims that Cayphas is
His."
"If you should see fit to return Cayphas to
this Norman Never-Do-Well, then so
be it, but I requre satisfaction for this
Loss."
"If you should take this city from me,
I would require a city of equal
Prestige."

"Surely," said Godfrey their Ruler,
speaking with wisdom and wit about
him, "this is a justified demand to
Make."
"Surrender Cayphas to its rightful
governor — you shall have St. Abraham
Instead."

"This is most pleasing to me," said
Galdemar, who would uphold his
Promise.

"Surely then it is confirmed," said
Raymond of St. Gilles, "that Godfrey
is our King. Who then will agree with
this?"
"If anybody should object to my statement,
Make your treachery known and make it
Fast."

Lo, and not a single man disagreed
except for Godfrey, who was too humble.
"Friends, I am your Prince, but I am no
King,"
"For in this land where my Saviour wore
a Crown of Thorns, I will not wear one of
Gold."

"Truly a righteous sentiment," proclaimed
Savary, the learned man. "Surely willed by
God."

"It must be so," proclaimed Raymond of
St. Gilles, who bowed his head in great
Respect.

"This is God's Kingdom," proclaimed
Godfrey, lifting his hands and raising his
Eyes to the vaults of the very high
Ceiling.
Falling to his knees, he made the Sign
of the Cross and proclaimed, "Not to
Me, O Lord, but to your Name give
Glory!"
"The Fatimid still scourges your Province,
but my Sword is still Sharp! Hèlas, to
War!"

Lo, and the gathered-there men did cry
out in support of their Liege and of their
Lord.

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‡‡‡   GOD'S KINGDOM   ‡‡‡
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‡‡‡   PART THREE   ‡‡‡
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Lo, and the call went out to All
of Godfrey's Valiant Vassals, that
they should Surround the City of
Ascalon.
Surely, shattering the Saracen's
sordid sovereignty over the very
Corners of Canaan would be
Possible,
If only his Fast Foothold on
the Cusp of the Coast were to
Slip.

Raymond of St. Gilles would
ride out to Jaffa, where the Host
he had so boldly commanded
Awaited.
"In five days," he did promise
before he left to take command,
"I will make camps to beleaguer
Ascalon."
"If I fail in this swiftness for
any Fault Found of Me, then
may the Lord's Justice be on
me!"
And with that he went, taking
with him his retainers and loyal
knights.

Antoine of Arsour and the
Count of Hebron, Galdemar,
Godefroy assigned to his own
host.
"You are my loyal servants,"
he praised them most piously.
"Truly God was smiling upon
Me,"
"When I gained such friends,
so Valiant and so Virtuous of
Heart."

Tancred, Noblest of Normans,
rode to assemble the Garrison
which Guarded the Gates of
Caesarea.
"These Soldiers which you have
need of — as God is my witness,
I shall deliver them unto you or
Die."
"I swore an oath to You and
God," Tancred did declare,
"Woe him who wishes that I
Fail!"
"I shall have brought them in
ten days and not a day longer to
Ascalon."

On the very day that Raymond
arrived in Ascalon, a small
Host of Hostile Saracens did
Assail.
Quickly and Quietly were the
Cowardly Caliphites Condemned
to Crumble before the Cunning
Crusaders.
Three hundred Saracen swords
no longer had hands to hold their
Hilts.

On the Twelfth Day of August
Godfrey, their Noble Prince,
arrived to their aid with many
Knights.
A great Column of Crusaders
as Wide as the Waters of the
Great Sea now supported the
Vanguards.
The Siege of Ascalon would
begin in earnest with the next
Morning.

Fornight came and fortnight
Went as the Siege of the City
of Ascalon dragged on and
On,
Until at last a Great Host of
Saracens finally came up from
the land of Egypt to break the
Siege.
At their Command was Yamin
the Mamluk, a renowned fighter
among the Ferocious Fatimids of
Egypt.
"God has drawn the divide here
between You and I," declared
Yamin the Mamluk, seeking
Peace.
"But, though he has given us
different Names, and we to
Him, do you not see our
Brotherhood?"
"Truly, my Heart is Awfully
Aggrieved to have to raise the
Sword."

Godfrey, hearing none of the
Mamluk's pleas for he believed
them False, declared the battle
Begun.
"I have not come here to make
War," said Godfrey, "but War
has been made for me and on
Me."
"I did not intend to take your
Cities by Force — I simply
gave my Will to God, who
Decided."
"This is God's Kingdom, and
He has Commanded my very
Steel."

The Mamluk Commander
lowered his head. "If you will
not reason with me, I must
Fight."
He raised his sword and Lo,
A Great Flood of Mamluks
and Saracens came charging
Forth.
From the Rising of the Sun
to the Death of the Day, the
Hordes Hounded the Weary
Warriors.
For every Saracen which met
his Death, there were ten which
Arose.

"Lose not your Heart, my
mighty Christian Crusaders,"
said Godfrey, raising sword on
High.
Lo, and though he was Struck
in the very Eye by the Hand of
a Saracen Warrior, Godfrey
Stood.
"Had God wished your blow
to **** me," he said, addressing
the Saracen, "I would have been
Silenced,"
"But He has seen fit to preserve
me — Hèlas! My cause is surely
Righteous!"

This assured the Crusaders
of the Divine Favour that God
had seen fit to bestow upon
Them,
Livening their Fervour and
Lighting the Fire of their
Ferocity.

"La samahha 'llah!" cried
the Mamluk Commander,
seeing the hampering of his
Host.
"Surely this Sore Aggrievance
is not deserved of Us, O
Almighty?"

Beaten and Battered, the
Saracen Scoundrels made
their Surrender known to
Godfrey.
Two months before the
Mass of Christ, the Caliph,
Al-Mustali Billah, sued for
peace.
"I have no more will to fight,"
said Al-Mustali, head hung
Low.

Godfrey accepted the Caliph's
sign of surrender two months
beforet the Mass of our Lord,
Christ.
A truce was struck to mark the
boundary with Egypt which he'd
Drawn.
Legends from the Early Kingdom of Jerusalem
James Carney Feb 13
O Viviane, waters billow below,
Scour my stone heart, to cut a cleft of you.
Coarse time grate, frothed roars the crag pool bruise.
There my gold name was your treasure to throw.
Now your madness is the sole love I know.
Summer sun’s blaze, gleaming corkscrews freed truths;
My willow’s fingers brushed your cobalt hues,
So secret reeds in our sparkling lake grow.
Maybe that’s why I stand on the cliff-side.
A search for your haunting shadow’s colour;
I chase it like my dreams, back to this hurt,
And with quaking limbs, hoarse cries fill the sky:
“Lord, I beg you, help me to uncover
The magician who left me with this curse.”

𝘖 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘫𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘥𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩
𝘐𝘤𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘥𝘦’𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘴.
𝘚𝘢𝘭𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘴, 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘴’ 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺’𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥,
𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥.
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸.
𝘉𝘢𝘳’𝘴 𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘻𝘦, 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥.
𝘐𝘯 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵’𝘴 𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘮, 𝘮𝘺 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥.
𝘛𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘸𝘯’𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘸.
𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘧-𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦.
𝘚𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘧, 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴,
𝘌𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵.
𝘐’𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦
𝘠𝘦𝘵 𝘢 𝘫𝘦𝘸𝘦𝘭 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳, 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳,
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘯’𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦.

Viviane, ephemeral as the day.
𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘐 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘴𝘦.
I’d play for you even without an ace.
𝘖𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘴𝘸𝘢𝘺.
Cheat, and I’ll honour you, in every game.  
𝘐𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥’𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴, 𝘐’𝘥 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦.
Lie, and I’ll believe you, in every case.
𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦.
Maybe that’s why I stand on the cliff-side.
𝘊𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴?
Or has our portrait dried in shades of hurt?  
𝘉𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘦.
I wonder if we’ll ever discover  
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘶𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦.
This poem tells the story of two former lovers who have tried to move on from one another but have both ended up at the same cliff-side. It is something of an anti-love poem, yet I find there's something hauntingly romantic about it. I wrote it with decasyllable to echo heroic verse of medieval French epic, which perfectly fits the Petrarchan sonnet form, accentuating both the narrative and its themes. Hope you guys enjoy it!
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