Posts Tagged ‘historical’

I crawl,
I crawl because death looms,
Tracer fireworks and smoothbore orchestra above,
The air is a Russian roulette of lead,
To stand vertical is to welcome the reapers round,
Razor wire as spectators,
Bullet casings as applause,

Knees and elbows,
Along this dank trench,
Each inch ahead is a marathon,
The mud cossets me as a reliable guardian,
Enveloping me as I crawl panicked,
My uniform once regal,
Is now a butchers apron,

Knees and elbows ragged,
Each pound of the earth shakes forth more debris,
Fellow conscripts lie about as charnel meat,
Carved by arms dealer produce,
This ditch has become the grave of many,
Its mud surely pining to consume me too,
As readily as any artillery,

Knees and elbows bloodied,
Exhaustion grips me,
I crash beside a shredded standard,
I did not choose this war,
Have no ability to quell its fury,
But now I lay amidst its masterpiece,
Etched in grunge and gore and steel.

The battle was won,
The dead collected,
And now it was time to revel,
To the longhouse,
The fire burned ochre and coral,
Roaring along with the cheerful ruckus,

The hall was a banquet of cheers and hurrahs,
The skalds sang long into the early hours,
Singing of the exploits of axes and swords both,
Mead ran like amber showers,
The scent of both pork and sweat frothed brashly,
And the sound was a human cacophony of joy,

The triumph of the day was diluted by the sombreness,
Like watered down ale,
The slain would not join them,
But they indulged all the same,
They knew their comrades revelled in Valhalla too,
And would join arms with them again one day.

The Earth strives to heal,
From the corruption of warfare,
Still wounded decades later,
Still polluted by the arsenic of empires,

From the minds of old men,
Did these scars across the land come,
Painted by bone shards and blood of the young,
Spread by the quills of artillery and lead,

Many souls died here,
Laid to rest in craters,
Mother Nature lies beside them in solidarity,
Mourning for the industrial slaughter,

And the planet still weeps,
Those tears of acid rain,
She hates those old men,
And endeavours to right their wrongs.

As this days sun grows coral,
The sacrifice is brought up,
To the apex of this temple,
Our golden pyramid,
This one shall suffice,

The sacred hymns are recited,
Drawing the scrutiny of the gods,
My obsidian blade is held in thirsty readiness,
The time is upon us,
Two small eyes grimace up,

‘Tetatzin…?’

The blade falls,
The vessel is pierced,
The pantheons wine is spilled,
Painting the glimmer of this place,
My people ring out in hysteria,

We become phrenetic in holy awe,
Aloft a warm youthful heart is held,
Hesitating to still beat,
Huitzilopochtli drink deep,
And be praised by this act.

Hello there inmates!

I hope you’re all having a wonderful day! Oh, and a wonderful week of course. Mine has been quite nice to be honest. I’ve been able to spend plenty of time with Tash which is always a gift. I’ve been more than happy with my recent scribblings. I have been thinking I want to head back in to my more horror-esque works. I’ve leaned a bit too far from that favourite genre of mine in my opinion. What do you guys think?

So, I’m going to be showing all of you some new music today. You’re surely aware of my ways by now! Haha! I have a theme for my musical choices today and it’s one I feel like I have done in the non-too-distant past. I could be imagining it, but we’ll see. Maybe one you lot can let me know.

Todays musical theme is history! Oh yes, anyone who has read my work in the past knows that I have a soft spot for history, particularly when it comes to military history. History is an excellent subject for musical expression, both in subject matter and in stylistic methods. They sometimes use instruments you hear less often, such as instruments used in marching bands and the like. Orchestral stylings are also often used in artists work when imagining historical scenarios. I’m going to try and get a variety of artists as always, it can be difficult at times though!

So, join me as we delve into the musical minds of nostalgic artists the world over!

Sabaton – Fields Of Verdun
https://www.sabaton.net/

2Cellos – Thunderstruck
http://www.2cellos.com/

Iron Maiden – Run To The Hills
https://www.ironmaiden.com/

Neil Young – Cortez The Killer
https://neilyoungarchives.com/

Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark – Enola Gay
https://www.omd.uk.com/

And there we have it!

I had to include a Sabaton song in there, I just had to! So, I hope that you enjoy all of my choices this week and if you’re so inclined, go and give these artists some love. They all deserve it in my opinion. Let me know what you think of this weeks choices and maybe suggest a theme for next weeks writing music? That would be cool!

How about some Harlequin social media nonsense? The asylum has a page over on Facebook, and account on Instagram and an account on Twitter as well. Also, if you enjoy what I do here at the asylum, please consider supporting me over on the Ko-Fi page. Thank you for everything!

Until next week, have a very crazy day inmates!

A continuation of ‘Hedge Knight‘.

The battle lines were down,
Like an assassins dirk across a map,
A knife through butter,
A plague through a nation,
Somewhere Death was atop a pale courser,
Waiting for his ravens harvest,

The tyrant versus the monarch,
Bloody upheaval versus the status quo,
Two hosts of armoured termites,
Spear and lance and blade,
Village pitted against fellow village,
Serfdom meat shields,

A yelled command,
And the storm of blood and iron began,
Armies collided and spilled crimson,
Mars drank deep that day,
Amidst the sea of levied corpses,
A monarchs and a tyrants eyes met,

Time stopped.

There was a knight,
A man of foul tastes and fouler intentions,
Scorned by lords and radiant ladies,
A brutish giant of a man,
Fallen out of court favour,
Settling to escape from the disapproval,

This knight turned that scorn outward,
Turning to punishing the serfs,
A wandering tyrant,
Chivalry turned to banditry,
A wolf in iron clothing,
A kingslayer,

This was no Robin Hood,
But a plate mail monster,
No silver tongues,
Just silver daggers and silver morningstars,
Claiming to be a knight errant like any other,
But searching for vice over virtue,

Along with his merry band of cutthroats,
He revelled in flesh and loot and fury,
A plague on the realm,
A steel cyclone,
Tearing a scar of hate across the nation,
Until a feeble monarch deigned to act.

Amongst the mire and barbed wire,
There lies prone the battered regiment,
Under a rain of both water and shell,
A band of brothers,
Rats armed to the nines,
Fighting more for camaraderie than a flag,

Holding their own,
Holding the front with tooth and round,
Keeping the foes from the trench,
Opting for blades as the bullets run out,
Shouting out under a chorus of machine-gun song,
Weighted down by mud and corpses,

Even these warriors are not ironclad though,
Waves of bodies fall upon them hourly,
Each loss is a bayonet to the gut,
Where each bodybag is a sacred relic,
Sent home with a sombre reverence,
Back to a warm welcome and a cold hearth,

A brief homage and an eternal sleep,
And the war rages on.

On one fateful day,
On the straits of Denmark,
An iron knight was laid low,
Clad in atlantic fleet grey,
The Mighty Hood,
Pride of a kingdom,
Reduced to scuttled wreck,
Pierced by HE crows from enemy ordnance,
Sent afly by a chancellors namesake,
Explosions cry out,
And the valour of the Royal Navy is frayed,
Rended and sent below the waves,
To be a monument to a fallen chivalrous age,
Now in cold waters does she finally rest,

Ventis Secundis

What does it mean to be a duelist?
Is it the air of flamboyance in your raiment?
Or the tales surrounding your blade?
The cold atmosphere of your stare?
Or is it purely your talent at arms?
A swordsman must be as a snake,
Biding her time to riposte and strike,
Reptilian eyes looking for a weak point,

There’s no underhandedness here though,
She is as regal as a king cobra,
And deeply respected as the fang she is,
The patience pays dividends of course,
A chink is spied,
No cuirass is impenetrable,
Not for an artist,
Not for a true duelist.