alosel

Samhain the year's start, Time to meet the ancestors - Let knowledge impart. Yuletide the season For confusion and madness - Time without reason. The freshness of spring Bringing bright Brigit's fire To let the muse sing. Eostre, egg and hare; Sowing seeds for future harvest; Thoughts planted with prayer. Upon Beltane night We will jump above the fire Turning spirits bright. The sun rises high, The year's zenith; greatest height, The Oak's time to die. Lammas the harvest, Cutting the first blessed sheafs, Darkness, Crone's request. The fight of light ends, Darkness wins for the Winter - The time for amends.

Hear the eternal lore of Myrddin the wise    Who forsaw the future of his demise. To protect a land held dearly in his heart,    Grew an oak as guardian should he depart. "When Myrddin's Oak shall tumble down,     Then shall fall Caefyrddin town." For this be the spell the wise man said,    To protect the town from pain and dread. Yet you have spilt the sacred Oak's blood,    Now Myrddin curses you with eternal flood. Heed the words of the Wizard - wisdom for all -    His words are wise and wrath terrible to befall. For his was the forging of the Round Table    In the greatest of the all land's sacred fables, And the powe

Have you experienced ecstacy of the spirit, Or heard the gods upon the heath? Have you risen to Gwynfyd and plunged to Annwn To meet with Merlin or Arawn? Well I envy you my friend, for I have not. And I search for knowledge and truth Yet it feels futile and in vain For where is this path that I wish to walk? Within or without? I could not tell you, As it wishes to stay silent and mute. Help me find the gods and spirits, As I feel in eternal loss without them.

I curse you against the sun, Against the stars, against the moon - For all the hate and hurt you've done, The end shall dawn upon you soon. Then you'll see the pain and lies That plagued your victims far and wide; Yet they shall be naught but meagre trials As you vanish like the ebbing tide. I curse your putrid lying tongue And the hands that would kill and maim. You'll turn to shadow for all your wrong; A distant howling wind for all that pain.