When a neck is crushed by someone's knee
He may not be able to breathe
He may even die

It's not always a matter between two
It’s a matter of Justice and Injustice
The Injustice crushes the neck of justice

Crooks say Blacks and Whites always fight
But they are not at all right
It’s a myth created by the haters

Haters injects racism, casteism, religionism
In the breath, mind and blood of everyone
But not everyone are that much fools

When haters are supported by the throne
Then the peoples who are not the fools
They shake the throne with much force

They convey the message in a nice way
They have the power to invert the throne
They have the power to break the throne

Because Blacks and Whites never fight
They recognize each others right
And always support what is right

Something. It was always something.
And whenever it was nothing
That something came crashing in
Amplifying, magnifying, falsifying

Nothing is ever as hard as living
Nothing was ever as easy as quitting
Surviving was unforgiving
Dying was unremitting

A broken heart and broken bones
Diverging cries that we condone
Death is whispered in unwavering tones
A vacuous home; an empty throne

No one lone thing could change the world
For better or worse, all unknown
Transcendence be the killer of all
Be a hero, die alone

A broken heart and broken bones
Diverging cries that we condone
Death is whispered in unwavering tones
A vacuous home; an empty throne

A tattered quest
A broken trail
A sin confessed
All’s bound to fail
A heart of stone to anchor down
A heart of gold, a thieves’ crown
A heart of ice to thaw the beast
An injured heart, long deceased

A broken heart and broken bones
Diverging cries that we condone
Death is whispered in unwavering tones
A vacuous home; an empty throne

A damaged soul, laid to rest
Unforgiving and unremitting
A hero's tale, told at best
Rescript and falsely fitting

The Kiss of Ceridwen
by Michael R. Burch

The kiss of Ceridwen
I have felt upon my brow,
    and the past and the future
    have appeared, an eerie vapor,
mingling with the here and now.

And Morrigan, the Raven,
the messenger, has come,
    to tell me that the gods, unsung,
    will not last long
when the druids’ harps grow dumb.

Originally published by Songs of Innocence

Keywords/Tags: Ceridwen, white, witch, enchantress, sorceress, crone, cauldron, awen, throne, Morfran, power, Wales, Welsh, Druids, Banshee, Picts, Scots, Scottish, fairies, glade, raven, gull, King Arthur, Arthurian, Morgause, Merlin, round table, knights, England, stone, Excalibur, chivalry, Camelot, Uther Pendragon, Colgrim, Saxon

I really miss her,
the woman who knew
her place:
on top of the throne.