Hails!
I haven't been very active lately. The reason for this was a kind of overkill of inspiration, which caused me to start many things without finishing any of them, I still have 4 unfinished things to do even now that I finished and posted two new songs.
Because I was told by some people my work isn't easy to understand at first, and because some of it is very personal, I decided to comment on each of the songs and poems, describing how it is meant. Of course, you can still see a completely different meaning to it, as there are few things that only have one meaning, it is meant as a help, not as an obligation.
Samstag, 11. April 2009
Blutmond
Ich weiß nicht, wann es geschah
Wann ich in den Abgrund sah
Wann der Wahnsinn zu mir fand
Oder wann die Zeit stillstand
Ich war es leid, dahinzusiechen
Und vor euch im Staub zu kriechen
Als finstre Nacht mich dann umgab
Legte ich meine Maske ab
Ich habe alles aufgegeben
Mir bleibt nur noch meine Wut
Und so schreib ich diese Worte
Nun mit meinem eignen Blut:
Ich bin Tod, ich bin Vernichtung
Ich bin Fleisch gewordner Hass
Unter einem Mond aus Blut
Entfessle ich nun meine Wut
Ich streife durch der Wälder Tiefen
Deren Stimmen nach mir riefen
Kaum noch etwas blieb von mir
Mich treiben Hunger, Wahn und Gier!
Meine Hände wurden Klauen
Erfüllt von der Wildnis Macht
Und in euch erwacht das Grauen
Als mein Schrei zerreißt die Nacht:
Ich bin Tod, ich bin Vernichtung...
Blut befleckt nun meine Hände
Und klebt auch an meinem Geist
Doch habe ich noch vor dem Ende
Erfahrn, was wahre Freiheit heißt.
Ich bin Tod, ich bin Vernichtung...
This may sound cliché at first, but it definitely isn’t. True, the wolf (and especially the were-wolf) is quite common in Metal lyrics, but in this case it is meant to be metaphorical. Wolves have always meant something special to men. They have been-and are-feared, yet also been treated with great respect. This song, however, deals with the wolf being the natural antithesis to the sheep-and therefore to men nowadays, as they become more and more like a herd of sheep with every day that passes, following self-assigned “leaders” to their own demise-like lambs to the slaughter.
Those who question these leaders’ words have no choice but to become the “wolves”: outcasts with blood on their hands, yet still having the most precious thing in this world: a life worth living.
Son of the Morrigan, 8.-10.4.2009
Wann ich in den Abgrund sah
Wann der Wahnsinn zu mir fand
Oder wann die Zeit stillstand
Ich war es leid, dahinzusiechen
Und vor euch im Staub zu kriechen
Als finstre Nacht mich dann umgab
Legte ich meine Maske ab
Ich habe alles aufgegeben
Mir bleibt nur noch meine Wut
Und so schreib ich diese Worte
Nun mit meinem eignen Blut:
Ich bin Tod, ich bin Vernichtung
Ich bin Fleisch gewordner Hass
Unter einem Mond aus Blut
Entfessle ich nun meine Wut
Ich streife durch der Wälder Tiefen
Deren Stimmen nach mir riefen
Kaum noch etwas blieb von mir
Mich treiben Hunger, Wahn und Gier!
Meine Hände wurden Klauen
Erfüllt von der Wildnis Macht
Und in euch erwacht das Grauen
Als mein Schrei zerreißt die Nacht:
Ich bin Tod, ich bin Vernichtung...
Blut befleckt nun meine Hände
Und klebt auch an meinem Geist
Doch habe ich noch vor dem Ende
Erfahrn, was wahre Freiheit heißt.
Ich bin Tod, ich bin Vernichtung...
This may sound cliché at first, but it definitely isn’t. True, the wolf (and especially the were-wolf) is quite common in Metal lyrics, but in this case it is meant to be metaphorical. Wolves have always meant something special to men. They have been-and are-feared, yet also been treated with great respect. This song, however, deals with the wolf being the natural antithesis to the sheep-and therefore to men nowadays, as they become more and more like a herd of sheep with every day that passes, following self-assigned “leaders” to their own demise-like lambs to the slaughter.
Those who question these leaders’ words have no choice but to become the “wolves”: outcasts with blood on their hands, yet still having the most precious thing in this world: a life worth living.
Son of the Morrigan, 8.-10.4.2009
Am Grund des Sees
Ihr habt dieses Land geknechtet
Ihr habt meinen Zorn geschürt
Habt manch alten Brauch geächtet
Es ist Zeit, dass ihr ihn spürt!
Nun jagt ihr mir hinterher
Durch den tiefverschneiten Wald
So folgt mir blind ein ganzes Heer
In ein Grab so nass und kalt
Vernichten werde ich euch alle
All mein Hass gilt euch allein
Kommt nur, lauft in meine Falle
Euer Ende soll es sein.
Aufrecht schau ich ins Verderben
Meine Klinge streift das Eis
Ich wollte immer stehend sterben
Heute schließt sich dieser Kreis
Mein Volk wollt ihr unterjochen
Nun bekommt ihr euren Lohn
Denn ich bau aus euren Knochen
Am Grund des Sees mir einen Thron.
Aufrecht schau ich ins Verderben...
A dream about a young Celtic warrior being chased by his Roman enemies during winter. He lured them onto a frozen lake that couldn’t be seen under the snow. When they all were on the ice, he pierced it with his sword, drowning them all and sacrificing himself. Most people nowadays don’t understand anymore that there are things worth dying for. They have become fat, bloated, egoist…we write our own legends these days, but I fear that they won’t have a happy ending.
Son of the Morrigan, 1.-4.4.2009
Ihr habt meinen Zorn geschürt
Habt manch alten Brauch geächtet
Es ist Zeit, dass ihr ihn spürt!
Nun jagt ihr mir hinterher
Durch den tiefverschneiten Wald
So folgt mir blind ein ganzes Heer
In ein Grab so nass und kalt
Vernichten werde ich euch alle
All mein Hass gilt euch allein
Kommt nur, lauft in meine Falle
Euer Ende soll es sein.
Aufrecht schau ich ins Verderben
Meine Klinge streift das Eis
Ich wollte immer stehend sterben
Heute schließt sich dieser Kreis
Mein Volk wollt ihr unterjochen
Nun bekommt ihr euren Lohn
Denn ich bau aus euren Knochen
Am Grund des Sees mir einen Thron.
Aufrecht schau ich ins Verderben...
A dream about a young Celtic warrior being chased by his Roman enemies during winter. He lured them onto a frozen lake that couldn’t be seen under the snow. When they all were on the ice, he pierced it with his sword, drowning them all and sacrificing himself. Most people nowadays don’t understand anymore that there are things worth dying for. They have become fat, bloated, egoist…we write our own legends these days, but I fear that they won’t have a happy ending.
Son of the Morrigan, 1.-4.4.2009
Donnerstag, 2. April 2009
A storm is coming from the north...
Hails!
This is, kind of, the "opening post" of this blog after posting my old work. I will post my work here, meaning poems, songs and stories. Sorry that most of the poems and songs are in German, some day I will perhaps translate them. I hope that even if you don't understand German you still enjoy my english work! Critics are, of course, always welcome.
This is, kind of, the "opening post" of this blog after posting my old work. I will post my work here, meaning poems, songs and stories. Sorry that most of the poems and songs are in German, some day I will perhaps translate them. I hope that even if you don't understand German you still enjoy my english work! Critics are, of course, always welcome.
Von Blut und Asche
Der Boden färbt sich rot vor Blut
Das sich dort mischt mit Asche
Doch noch immer schwelt die Glut
Weil ich euch alle hasse!
Ich bin das Gift in euren Adern
Und der Tod in eurem Blut
Ich brenne eure Häuser nieder
Lass euch spüren meine Wut
Meine Heimat ist die Nacht
Die ich nur dann verlasse
Wenn ich euch wieder niederschlacht’
Weil ich euch alle hasse!
Werd’ den Zweifel niederschlagen
Der mich nach all der Zeit beschlich
Nur um mich einmal zu fragen:
Wer bin ich eigentlich?
Und wieder tränkt den Boden Blut
Und trifft auf heiße Asche
Denn für immer schwelt die Glut
Weil ich euch alle hasse!
This world becomes darker and darker. People forget their roots and sell their culture. They forget that they stand on this earth but for the blood of their ancestors. This ignorance sometimes angers me so much that I wish I just could go out and kill them. Pulling myself together-being fully aware that this means denying my instincts and hating myself for that- I try to find some outlet for my aggression, such as writing a song…
But there is another, less dark and less personal meaning to this: not hating means not living. Hatred will play a role in everyone’s life, whether you embrace it, ignore it, fight it, use it, but you have no choice but to accept it. Hatred is powerful, powerful enough to destroy yourself with it if you don’t know how to handle it.
Son of the Morrigan, 2.3.2009
Das sich dort mischt mit Asche
Doch noch immer schwelt die Glut
Weil ich euch alle hasse!
Ich bin das Gift in euren Adern
Und der Tod in eurem Blut
Ich brenne eure Häuser nieder
Lass euch spüren meine Wut
Meine Heimat ist die Nacht
Die ich nur dann verlasse
Wenn ich euch wieder niederschlacht’
Weil ich euch alle hasse!
Werd’ den Zweifel niederschlagen
Der mich nach all der Zeit beschlich
Nur um mich einmal zu fragen:
Wer bin ich eigentlich?
Und wieder tränkt den Boden Blut
Und trifft auf heiße Asche
Denn für immer schwelt die Glut
Weil ich euch alle hasse!
This world becomes darker and darker. People forget their roots and sell their culture. They forget that they stand on this earth but for the blood of their ancestors. This ignorance sometimes angers me so much that I wish I just could go out and kill them. Pulling myself together-being fully aware that this means denying my instincts and hating myself for that- I try to find some outlet for my aggression, such as writing a song…
But there is another, less dark and less personal meaning to this: not hating means not living. Hatred will play a role in everyone’s life, whether you embrace it, ignore it, fight it, use it, but you have no choice but to accept it. Hatred is powerful, powerful enough to destroy yourself with it if you don’t know how to handle it.
Son of the Morrigan, 2.3.2009
Inside the fire
A fire rages within me
That burns me from inside
I have this urge to kill that
I can no longer fight
Control is an illusion
I long ago have lost
Buried in delusion
In fire and in frost
I stand inside the fire
It burns within my veins
My ultimate desire-
To end this searing pain
I’ve stolen, killed and tortured
Without any remorse
And when I think it’s over
It’s only getting worse
I’m on the verge of losing
What little’s left of me
There’s no more strength for fighting
And no more blood to bleed
I stand inside the fire…
The fire turned to ashes
As flames now slowly die
It hits me like whiplashes:
So who the fuck am I?
I stand inside the fire…
Probably the most personal thing I have written so far. This one was made at the end of my “dark month”. Very important here is that I made some exceptions to my usual metaphorical style here, there are some things that are meant literally, it is, for example, a fact that there was a time when I have stolen, more than once. I am not proud of it, I don’t deny it, but that doesn’t make it undone. It is with this song I tried to gather my own thoughts at the end of a time when everything seemed to go wrong.
Son of the Morrigan, 6.-15.2.2009
That burns me from inside
I have this urge to kill that
I can no longer fight
Control is an illusion
I long ago have lost
Buried in delusion
In fire and in frost
I stand inside the fire
It burns within my veins
My ultimate desire-
To end this searing pain
I’ve stolen, killed and tortured
Without any remorse
And when I think it’s over
It’s only getting worse
I’m on the verge of losing
What little’s left of me
There’s no more strength for fighting
And no more blood to bleed
I stand inside the fire…
The fire turned to ashes
As flames now slowly die
It hits me like whiplashes:
So who the fuck am I?
I stand inside the fire…
Probably the most personal thing I have written so far. This one was made at the end of my “dark month”. Very important here is that I made some exceptions to my usual metaphorical style here, there are some things that are meant literally, it is, for example, a fact that there was a time when I have stolen, more than once. I am not proud of it, I don’t deny it, but that doesn’t make it undone. It is with this song I tried to gather my own thoughts at the end of a time when everything seemed to go wrong.
Son of the Morrigan, 6.-15.2.2009
Abrechnung
Ihr spucktet mir oft ins Gesicht
Oft habt ihr mich gequält
So bittet nun um Gnade nicht
Den Weg habt ihr gewählt
Lang schon wart ich auf den Tag
Geduldig, Jahr um Jahr
Euch zu versetzen diesen Schlag
Und endlich wird es wahr!
Gezogne Axt, erhobnes Haupt
So hole ich euch gleich
Habt ihr wahrhaftig noch geglaubt
Zu entrinnen Hels Reich?
Seh splittern eure Knochen und
Euer dreckiges Blut fließen
Ihr gabt mir mehr als einen Grund
Es heute zu vergießen
Die Axt, sie fliegt, ihr schreit vor Qual
Die Klinge färbt sich rot
Da ist kein Ausweg, keine Wahl:
Bald seid ihr alle tot.
Und liegt ihr endlich tief im Dreck
Die Wut fällt von mir ab
Dann leg ich meine Waffen weg
Tanz nackt auf eurem Grab
Very similar to Seeking for Vengeance, yet with a different, more pagan approach this time, this one deals with thoughts of revenge and at the same time it is dedicated to all the people that unconsciously made me pissed off in my life and thus helped keeping alive the beast in me without which I couldn’t exist, let alone write…
Son of the Morrigan, 8.-14.1.2009
Oft habt ihr mich gequält
So bittet nun um Gnade nicht
Den Weg habt ihr gewählt
Lang schon wart ich auf den Tag
Geduldig, Jahr um Jahr
Euch zu versetzen diesen Schlag
Und endlich wird es wahr!
Gezogne Axt, erhobnes Haupt
So hole ich euch gleich
Habt ihr wahrhaftig noch geglaubt
Zu entrinnen Hels Reich?
Seh splittern eure Knochen und
Euer dreckiges Blut fließen
Ihr gabt mir mehr als einen Grund
Es heute zu vergießen
Die Axt, sie fliegt, ihr schreit vor Qual
Die Klinge färbt sich rot
Da ist kein Ausweg, keine Wahl:
Bald seid ihr alle tot.
Und liegt ihr endlich tief im Dreck
Die Wut fällt von mir ab
Dann leg ich meine Waffen weg
Tanz nackt auf eurem Grab
Very similar to Seeking for Vengeance, yet with a different, more pagan approach this time, this one deals with thoughts of revenge and at the same time it is dedicated to all the people that unconsciously made me pissed off in my life and thus helped keeping alive the beast in me without which I couldn’t exist, let alone write…
Son of the Morrigan, 8.-14.1.2009
Winter
Schnee fällt auf das Land hernieder
Begräbt das Leben einmal wieder
Der Wald ächzt unter schwerer Last
Die Kälte bricht so manchen Ast
So auch ich, ein hohler Baum
Die Kraft reicht mir zum Stehen kaum
Des Kämpfens leid, müde die Schlacht
Ersehne ich nun die ewige Nacht
Schnee fällt auf das Land hernieder
Begräbt meine geschwächten Glieder
Leer der Blick, der Arm schwer wie Blei
Erwart’ ich den Tod, er macht mich frei.
Written right before the break-up with my ex-girlfriend, this is the only work I finished so far that never was meant as a song. I was feeling empty and drained, looking at the snow falling down outside, burying everything, and pondering over why it couldn’t just bury me as well. It is in these moments when you lose your faith in others, in yourself, in everything, that the best or the worst in you is awakened-or both.
Son of the Morrigan, 5.1.2009
Begräbt das Leben einmal wieder
Der Wald ächzt unter schwerer Last
Die Kälte bricht so manchen Ast
So auch ich, ein hohler Baum
Die Kraft reicht mir zum Stehen kaum
Des Kämpfens leid, müde die Schlacht
Ersehne ich nun die ewige Nacht
Schnee fällt auf das Land hernieder
Begräbt meine geschwächten Glieder
Leer der Blick, der Arm schwer wie Blei
Erwart’ ich den Tod, er macht mich frei.
Written right before the break-up with my ex-girlfriend, this is the only work I finished so far that never was meant as a song. I was feeling empty and drained, looking at the snow falling down outside, burying everything, and pondering over why it couldn’t just bury me as well. It is in these moments when you lose your faith in others, in yourself, in everything, that the best or the worst in you is awakened-or both.
Son of the Morrigan, 5.1.2009
Späte Rache
Ein finstres Heer tritt aus dem Wald
Die Rüstungen schwarz, der Stahl so kalt
Heut ist der Tag, da wir stürmen hervor
Zu streiten für Odin, Tyr und Thor!
Wo dereinst die Asen gingen
Werden wir die Äxte schwingen
Zwar zwangt ihr die Ahnen ins Knie
Doch wisset: Alter Hass stirbt nie!
Wo jetzt Kirchen stehen, soll werden ein Hain
Auch ihr sollt nun fühlen unsrer Ahnen Pein
Das Lied der Schlachten verkündet euren Tod
Der Boden getränkt mit Eurem Blut so rot
Vorüber ist die letzte Schlacht
Mit ihr zweitausend Jahre Nacht
Das Kreuz zerstört am Boden liegt
Die alten Götter haben gesiegt!
Unter der Eiche feiern wir, trinken Met und Bier
Begießen unseren Sieg über Hochmut und Gier
Erhebt eure Hörner, ihr habt es gesehn:
Kein Mensch braucht ein Kreuz, um aufrecht zu stehn!
And yet another song on Christianity. The less sinister counterpart to Of Blood and Agony, it displays the same hope for the end of the Christian reign of terror and lies, the day when people stand up and speak for themselves once more. It is a small hope, but it is a hope, after all…
Son of the Morrigan, December 2008
-edited 20.-22.2.2009
Die Rüstungen schwarz, der Stahl so kalt
Heut ist der Tag, da wir stürmen hervor
Zu streiten für Odin, Tyr und Thor!
Wo dereinst die Asen gingen
Werden wir die Äxte schwingen
Zwar zwangt ihr die Ahnen ins Knie
Doch wisset: Alter Hass stirbt nie!
Wo jetzt Kirchen stehen, soll werden ein Hain
Auch ihr sollt nun fühlen unsrer Ahnen Pein
Das Lied der Schlachten verkündet euren Tod
Der Boden getränkt mit Eurem Blut so rot
Vorüber ist die letzte Schlacht
Mit ihr zweitausend Jahre Nacht
Das Kreuz zerstört am Boden liegt
Die alten Götter haben gesiegt!
Unter der Eiche feiern wir, trinken Met und Bier
Begießen unseren Sieg über Hochmut und Gier
Erhebt eure Hörner, ihr habt es gesehn:
Kein Mensch braucht ein Kreuz, um aufrecht zu stehn!
And yet another song on Christianity. The less sinister counterpart to Of Blood and Agony, it displays the same hope for the end of the Christian reign of terror and lies, the day when people stand up and speak for themselves once more. It is a small hope, but it is a hope, after all…
Son of the Morrigan, December 2008
-edited 20.-22.2.2009
Of Blood and Agony
Long enough we’ve waited
Decade after decade
Watching you perverting the world
By deceit, torture and hate
Tonight we shall come forth
Your churches, they will burn
The Vatican shall fall
And the old gods shall return
Your lies built up throughout centuries
Shall crumble in a single night
What took you a thousand years to steal from us
We’ll take back in a raging fight
A tale of Blood and Agony
Will find its end tonight
Two thousand years of tragedy
Are crushed by our spite
A storm is coming from the north
Cold and death it shall bring
But from the ashes of tyranny
A newborn light shall spring
A tale of Blood and Agony…
A tale of Blood and Agony
Has found its end tonight
Two thousand years of tragedy
Were crushed by our spite
This hardly needs an explanation. There are no words in any language to describe how much damage Christianity has done, how many lives it has destroyed or how much time it would take to heal the wounds it has caused to this world. The simple fact that many people still look at someone who seriously claims to be the deputy of a god as a person of respect and authority instead of what he and his kind are-murderers and warmongers-shows in a very bitter and devastating manner how long and hard the way mankind would have to go if it wanted to go it would be. This song deals with the small, almost desperate hope that somehow, some day, this madness will be put to an end. I hope I live to see that day…
Son of the Morrigan, 2.-11.12.2008
Decade after decade
Watching you perverting the world
By deceit, torture and hate
Tonight we shall come forth
Your churches, they will burn
The Vatican shall fall
And the old gods shall return
Your lies built up throughout centuries
Shall crumble in a single night
What took you a thousand years to steal from us
We’ll take back in a raging fight
A tale of Blood and Agony
Will find its end tonight
Two thousand years of tragedy
Are crushed by our spite
A storm is coming from the north
Cold and death it shall bring
But from the ashes of tyranny
A newborn light shall spring
A tale of Blood and Agony…
A tale of Blood and Agony
Has found its end tonight
Two thousand years of tragedy
Were crushed by our spite
This hardly needs an explanation. There are no words in any language to describe how much damage Christianity has done, how many lives it has destroyed or how much time it would take to heal the wounds it has caused to this world. The simple fact that many people still look at someone who seriously claims to be the deputy of a god as a person of respect and authority instead of what he and his kind are-murderers and warmongers-shows in a very bitter and devastating manner how long and hard the way mankind would have to go if it wanted to go it would be. This song deals with the small, almost desperate hope that somehow, some day, this madness will be put to an end. I hope I live to see that day…
Son of the Morrigan, 2.-11.12.2008
Seeking for Vengeance
As the blade slits your throat
My hatred is unleashed
As your warm blood flows
The beast in me is freed
My bloodlust grows and grows
By my hatred’s boiling heat
For years I’ve fed my anger
Cultivated my hate
And waited for the day when
I’d be your final fate
So now your life is at an end
While I release my rage!
Slaying you will heal my
Wounds that can’t heal in time
As your life fades slowly
Vengeance is mine
I sought you with persistence
And my long, sharp knife
You effaced my existence
I’ll do so with your life
The lightning shows your body
Bleeding on the ground
As the roaring thunder
Shakes everything around
One more blow, now it is done
Fulfilment I have found!
Slaying you will heal my…
As my bloody work is done
I slowly walk away
May the ravens have your body
Or let it decay
Slaying you has healed my
Wounds that couldn’t heal in time
As you live no longer
Vengeance is mine
I sought you with persistence
And my long, sharp knife
You effaced my existence
I did so with your life…
Thoughts about the enemies we all have-some forgiven long ago, some never to be forgiven because they left behind wounds that can not heal in time and maybe not even their death would heal them.
Son of the Morrigan, 7.-13.10.2008
My hatred is unleashed
As your warm blood flows
The beast in me is freed
My bloodlust grows and grows
By my hatred’s boiling heat
For years I’ve fed my anger
Cultivated my hate
And waited for the day when
I’d be your final fate
So now your life is at an end
While I release my rage!
Slaying you will heal my
Wounds that can’t heal in time
As your life fades slowly
Vengeance is mine
I sought you with persistence
And my long, sharp knife
You effaced my existence
I’ll do so with your life
The lightning shows your body
Bleeding on the ground
As the roaring thunder
Shakes everything around
One more blow, now it is done
Fulfilment I have found!
Slaying you will heal my…
As my bloody work is done
I slowly walk away
May the ravens have your body
Or let it decay
Slaying you has healed my
Wounds that couldn’t heal in time
As you live no longer
Vengeance is mine
I sought you with persistence
And my long, sharp knife
You effaced my existence
I did so with your life…
Thoughts about the enemies we all have-some forgiven long ago, some never to be forgiven because they left behind wounds that can not heal in time and maybe not even their death would heal them.
Son of the Morrigan, 7.-13.10.2008
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