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Goddess Of Pain And Hate
Many moons far back in time in a past now long forgotten,
There lived a man so dark in heart they said his soul was rotten,
He practiced rituals and worshipped Gods that had been banished long ago,
But every action has a consequence and we reap just what we sow.
His wife bore him a daughter so much different than the rest,
There were rumours that when breastfeeding she had torn off her mother’s breast,
The child was filled with darkness and a knowledge long unknown,
The villagers became more afraid with each year the child had grown.
Her face became more beautiful as her heart grew black as night,
Locked in her room with ancient texts she moved further from the light,
She learned banished rites and rituals in a language long forgotten,
She felt old power surge within her veins and her soul was dark and rotten.
Too evil to be allowed to live too beautiful to die,
When the villagers saw her power that’s what she heard them cry,
No man or woman was strong enough to stand against her rages,
She had become a Goddess of pain and hate who had travelled down the ages.
She could smell the sin on man and beast who had cheated who had lied,
Who had lived a life in greed and who had lived in pride,
Each villager tried to save themselves what was theirs and what they loved,
All while praying for a miracle or salvation from above.
She balanced on the church spire to a chorus of shouts and roars,
She said the priest had been unclean and slept with many whores,
She ordered him brought forward and he knelt before her shadow,
The last thing that he ever saw was fires from below.
She ordered that a dog be killed and spread the blood across each head,
Chanting rites in words nobody knew they became soulless and undead,
She sliced their throats with a silver blade and they fell and rose again,
Devoid of all emotion just a shell of hate and pain.
The fires and the smoke rose up and could be seen for miles around,
In each surrounding village they heard a fateful sound,
The banging of the drums of death long spoken in folklore,
A sound not heard In these parts for a thousand years or more.
The villages fell and many died in violence and in fear,
Each hearing distant screams and cries as their own demise grew near,
The land fell into darkness as the undead waged their war,
No sun rose above the hills for at least ten days or more.
A man came by horse far from the east dressed in beggars rags,
He saw the fire and heard the drums he saw the bloodied flags,
He studied things not written down but passed on down the years,
The secrets of the ancient ones still echoed in his ears.
The survivors had all gathered in the forest to escape,
They could see they were no match for the Goddess of pain and hate,
But as they trekked through the wilderness the beggar blocked their way,
He said they had no need to run and that love would win that day.
Those that could played instruments and those that could sing sang,
The music was heard in every place all across the land,
They continued marching forward together now as one,
The night gave way to morning as the moon gave way to sun.
The Goddess saw that she was beaten that the battle could not be won,
Apart they were weak and fearful together they were strong,
But she vowed that she would soon return when man again grows weak,
When he turns against his brother lies and steals and cheats.
Just fields and trees stand in that place where man stood against oppression,
There’s been cars and planes and wars and space great peaks and great depressions,
The time may come again and soon when the moon overcomes the sun,
But as long as we have love and respect we can stand and fight as one.
© LoneAlien
There lived a man so dark in heart they said his soul was rotten,
He practiced rituals and worshipped Gods that had been banished long ago,
But every action has a consequence and we reap just what we sow.
His wife bore him a daughter so much different than the rest,
There were rumours that when breastfeeding she had torn off her mother’s breast,
The child was filled with darkness and a knowledge long unknown,
The villagers became more afraid with each year the child had grown.
Her face became more beautiful as her heart grew black as night,
Locked in her room with ancient texts she moved further from the light,
She learned banished rites and rituals in a language long forgotten,
She felt old power surge within her veins and her soul was dark and rotten.
Too evil to be allowed to live too beautiful to die,
When the villagers saw her power that’s what she heard them cry,
No man or woman was strong enough to stand against her rages,
She had become a Goddess of pain and hate who had travelled down the ages.
She could smell the sin on man and beast who had cheated who had lied,
Who had lived a life in greed and who had lived in pride,
Each villager tried to save themselves what was theirs and what they loved,
All while praying for a miracle or salvation from above.
She balanced on the church spire to a chorus of shouts and roars,
She said the priest had been unclean and slept with many whores,
She ordered him brought forward and he knelt before her shadow,
The last thing that he ever saw was fires from below.
She ordered that a dog be killed and spread the blood across each head,
Chanting rites in words nobody knew they became soulless and undead,
She sliced their throats with a silver blade and they fell and rose again,
Devoid of all emotion just a shell of hate and pain.
The fires and the smoke rose up and could be seen for miles around,
In each surrounding village they heard a fateful sound,
The banging of the drums of death long spoken in folklore,
A sound not heard In these parts for a thousand years or more.
The villages fell and many died in violence and in fear,
Each hearing distant screams and cries as their own demise grew near,
The land fell into darkness as the undead waged their war,
No sun rose above the hills for at least ten days or more.
A man came by horse far from the east dressed in beggars rags,
He saw the fire and heard the drums he saw the bloodied flags,
He studied things not written down but passed on down the years,
The secrets of the ancient ones still echoed in his ears.
The survivors had all gathered in the forest to escape,
They could see they were no match for the Goddess of pain and hate,
But as they trekked through the wilderness the beggar blocked their way,
He said they had no need to run and that love would win that day.
Those that could played instruments and those that could sing sang,
The music was heard in every place all across the land,
They continued marching forward together now as one,
The night gave way to morning as the moon gave way to sun.
The Goddess saw that she was beaten that the battle could not be won,
Apart they were weak and fearful together they were strong,
But she vowed that she would soon return when man again grows weak,
When he turns against his brother lies and steals and cheats.
Just fields and trees stand in that place where man stood against oppression,
There’s been cars and planes and wars and space great peaks and great depressions,
The time may come again and soon when the moon overcomes the sun,
But as long as we have love and respect we can stand and fight as one.
© LoneAlien
