Category Archives: Poetry

My Poetry.

Lords of Suk

the lords of suk, in the black halls of hatred and hurt emotion, they
smile now. for again, souls do combat, try to hurt each other, and there
is no end in sight. love has lost again. hatred has won. all you see,
is bitterness and the selfish desire to maim another soul.

the lords of suk, fully in flowing black robes, are ugly evil creatures,
feasting on death, suffering, destruction, and most importantly, the
agony of the soul. everytime we feed them, they get stronger, greater
and mightier. how, by all gods, can we all let this happen?

the lords of suk, they know who we are and our limits, our weakness, our
failing strength. they are aware of our failure, our error, our
misjudgement. it is what they crave, what they exploit, what they so
very much like. and we do everything to please those foul beings.

the lords of suk reward every warrior full of hatred and evil. they grant
him immense power and might. and every tear, every broken heart, this
warrior throws at their feet, makes them so happy, so content and so
joyful. grinning foul mouths, singing praise to every warrior they have.

the lands of suk are merciless barren wastes, dominated by steel fortresses,
and full of suks, ruled by their lords, spectres of foul red black evil
aura, and every hurt soul, crawling to their thrones, begging for strength,
will get it, but at a price that is horrendous to pay.

beware, hater and traveller, beware.

there are different places, for sure. places of light and love and forgiving.
but those are sometimes difficult to reach, when you are locked in combat
with your eternal foe. nevertheless, there are always redeeming choices,
and hope can light new ways.

primitive we all are, not of noble origin, that unifies us. makes us all
the same. hate, anger, wrath, jealousy. we all share what is mankind’s
downfall. we must choose how we succumb to it, or, as white knights,
resist it, and create a new dawn, maybe with our enemies, becoming friends
again.

Pride

a crow whispers salvation.

return to the ancient ways. question your heart. search your soul.
combat all evil. speak your prayers. reinforce your armor. sharpen
your blade. have you forgotten who you truly are?

a crow flies away. silent and mysterious.

begin the voyage to healing. remember all the good days. never forget
the darkness. see the good things you have done. be alert to all
evil you did. try to mend wounds, yours and those of others.

i stand alone again. as it was. as it maybe will be.

the stick is finally broken. perform the rituals of cleansing. transcend
your pain. a valuable lesson in this world of destruction. learn from
every fight. walk full of pride again, when the time comes.

the shaping of a new dawn takes time. there is always hope.

face lust as well as love as noble knight, not as rogue. your color
does not count. others might rob you of your titles, your land and
maybe even your honor. it matters not. its all in your soul.

see evil’s work. dont be blind. always question their motives.

some are slaves to their weakness. their choices are bad. their lives
a mess. they wont listen, they will attack. you have to defend
yourself against them. be cautious, dont have too much pity.

trust your instincts. your feelings. your heart.

sometimes your soul begins to tremble before your thought takes form.
always listen! never ignore it! you heart will always lead the way.
speak it proudly, for it is true. dont put your mind against it.

peace is your highest form. abandon war if you can.

loneliness made you a warrior. but evil comes of it. try to become
peaceful. a defender, not an attacker. judge not too harshly. try
to transcend your inner beast. remain humble in the face of evil.

Unworthy of Knighthood

from now on, thou shaltst not bear the Title of White Knight
any more, expelled are you of this ancient, noble Order of
the Old Land. Darkness clouded your Judgement, Evil overshadowed
your Soul, and treacherous you have become to the most sacred
Thing of all: Love Allmighty.

fanatic and loyal to your Codex, you knew no Mercy, you judged
like an Inquisitor General, and you crushed Faery’s Wings by
doing it. No wise Balance was within you, you were dominated
by Anger and Wrath and Jealousy. So you let this happen, you
pushed away a loving Soul.

Grey or Black, take your new Color. If others forgive you, if
you forgive yourself, and vow to change your Ways, you might
redeem yourself. But your Virtues are fixed, monolithic and
immovable, even the mightiest magic Waters are unable to
soften you up.

Justice is done by your Suffering. Unworthy you are now, a
renegade Bandit, nobody will hunt you, for you torture yourself.
Flee to your Garden of lustful Dreams, let your Shadows guard
your petty Secrets. But from now on you are cursed until you
yourself lift this evil Spell.

Challenge

Don your Armor, take your Sword and Shield. I am in Need of you now.
Chant the Warrior Songs of Old, prepare yourself with iron Mind. Your
Strength is of Value now. I wont tell you what we fight, or where,
or whom. I just need your Protection now. For I am weak.

You are the Idol of my Power. You are what I could not always be.
Rise and answer the Challenge. My Power is yours, the meager Remnant
that I possess. All Magic of darker Realms is with you, from
deepest Sources, most hidden Secrets, unbeknownst to Mortal Eye.

Thus ready, you shalt stand guard, at the Gate to this well known
Garden of black-thorned Roses, while I venture into it, amidst
dying Flowers, decrepit sunken Walls and the Pavillion of Lost
Dreams. There I shall stay for an Eternity, silent and suffering.

It will take Time to heal, Black Knight, stand vigilant. Every
Visitor shall be questioned, or attacked if an Enemy. Maybe,
when the Signs are right, one Visitor shall come, to heal and
mend my Wounds, to reconcile with my Bitterness.

Look! In that Corner, there lies your Armor, the white one,
bloodstained and wet of Tears, its not your Blood, and not
your Tears. What Massacre have you committed, mad Man? Whom
have you hurt that cared for you?

The old Creed is true: nothing can hurt a Shadow. and a Shadow
cant hurt anyone.

Failed Voyage

i shall praise the Old Kingdom, where noble Knights and fair Ladies
roam the Land, upholding the Virtue of Love Allmighty, fighting for
Light, Justice, Hope and Peace. Mighty Castles protect the Realm,
strong Armies stand defiant at the Borders, and the Blessing of
one God is upon all.

i left this Land, cause i was a lonely Scholar in an ivory Tower,
not rich, not noble, not fair to behold, just a mediocre Warrior,
with a Heart full of Hope, and Doubt, and desperate Longing. Some
Secrets there were, pitiful and meager, nothing fancy, but important
enough to be ashamed of.

so i rode into the new Realm, the new Kingdom, and i was armed,
and had some old tattered Hauberk strapped to my Chest. Ill prepared
was I, and the Battles I had to fight, were all of the Mind, the
Heart, but never of the Flesh alone. All Training wasted, plunged
into Combat I was not ready for. Your own fault, Adventurer.

i wont speak of Succubi, or Demons, or Madmen. we all know who they
are. in the end, i was not able to accept Love, and failed to
tolerate different Virtue, far away from mine. so my Tears were
many, i suffered, and maybe rightly so. i am not the perfect Knight,
and humble was I bowed by merciless Fate.

This is my Valley of Sadness. And my Punishment. Maybe just, for I
did punish as well. Also a painful reminder that you burn yourself
by playing with Fire. Cursed you be, Lust, Source of my everlasting
Pain. And unworthy as I am, Love flees before me. A Pariah I am.

Greatest Power?

the key to salvation might be to extend a hand to others,
to rescue stranded souls, to mend and heal festering wounds.

the war against evil might not be won on the battlefield,
brutality, force, and power corrupt the truest soul.

some of us might think they are great knights, and champions of good,
born to fight demons, cleansers of corruption in the land.

but their true call could be to heal, not to fight, and that
might be even more powerful, for it lets us shine ourselves.

glory, renown, a name of power, greatness, a light in darkness.
that is to be won in battle. it has its place, but it can fade.

to drag a soul out of the abyss, to help a life’s fire to rekindle,
this could very well last forever, a treasure so insubstantial.

and in the end, it could be, that evil in your own heart, hatred
and anger, evaporates by assisting others, for good always birthes good.

humble you shall be, of your imperfection you shall know, and of
your limits, we are all mortal and flawed. some might fall back into nothingness.

but every soul you help to save, will shine a thousand times. and hope
might not be lost, even in the deepest bowels of hell. have faith.

First Light

Unimaginable, we have fallen from Grace
cast out of Heaven, banished from the Light,
fallen to Earth, reconstructed in mortal Form,
now we age, we suffer, we cry.

Impure, tainted and corrupted,
concerned with Flesh, Passion and Greed,
full of Hatred, lusting for War,
Angels became Demons soon enough.

We can never return, only through Death,
and that is uncertain, for we must atone for
our Sins, hard will be Judgement, and shameful
our Acceptance. There is no Way out.

Rekindle your Light, find Strength in Faith,
do what is right, fight what is wrong,
live a Life of Solitude and Sadness,
and search for others like you.

There is always Hope, Love is the mightiest of Forces,
but this Land is black, and there is no Place to flee to,
learn to wield your Weapons, be prepared to fight,
but never ever color your Soul black with Murder.

Shining Knights

See them walk the Battlefield, full of false Pride and Arrogance,
in shining glittering Armor, for all to see and to admire.
They want you to believe they are the Greatest and most Powerful,
true Leaders and worthy of Admiration.

See those shiny Knights, drunken and in Revelry, primitive and loud,
bathing in their puny Excess, celebrating their hollow Victories.
Unworthy to wield the Blade, a Mockery of all that is Knighthood.
They roam the Nights, looking for Pleasure and Ignorance.

I stand far away, clothed in Shadow and Darkness, my Armor has
never been white, but dirty, scarred and dented, my Blade never costly
or expensive, and I possess no golden Clothes. All that remains is
a fine Heart of Humility, Passion and Righteousness beating in Rage.

Insubstantial we become, our spectral Blades unable to hurt our
Enemies, we fade into Nothingness, our Warnings unheard.
Weak we are now, against Evil and its trickery Illusions,
all Minds turn to the Shining Lords of Reality, listening and obeying.

Maybe we might gather again, the grey Walkers, the Knights of the Void,
one last Battle against our Foes, to remind them once more,
that not all Good is dead, not all Hope lost, not all Light forgotten.
Spread the Word, the Bastion of the Righteous still exists.

Lost

Crush the Barrier of Realities,
let the Armies through,
greet them as a Lord you never were
and lead them to a gruesome Battle

Darkness is the Weapon of Choice,
evil Monstrosities are the Machine of War,
get your Retaliation, your Revenge,
now you are so mighty

Seek out your Enemies, one by one,
destroy them with all your Power,
let nobody remain alive,
for now the Time of the Reaper has come

Once the Deed is done,
and Ashes remain of all your Enemies,
you are alone, what a glorious Victor,
the Winner of the Fight

In the End, you die alone,
for all have gone, be it through your Hand or not,
Evil is an Instrument of Corruption,
and you, of all Beings, have been tainted the most

Graues Land

ritter im grauen land
an der knorrigen eiche
ohne rüstung und waffen
ruhend, aber nicht schlafend

dieses land gewährt frieden
abseits von krieg und hass
aber es verlangt einsamkeit
und einkehr in sich selbst

keiner mag den weg finden
dieses land ist fern und weit
verborgen und versteckt
kann nur einer es finden

träume wandeln im nebel
sprechen in fremden sprachen
manche künden von ewiger liebe
andere von erfülltem leben

der ritter hört sie an, geduldig
und mit geschlossenen augen,
hier werden geister nur weisheit
sprechen, ohne lug oder trug

irgendwann wird es wieder zeit,
rüstung und schwert rufen,
die ruhe ist vorbei und andere
länder warten, der stete kampf
geht weiter.