Dawn of the New Athens

Daughters, sons, river deaths: Faces pale like moons, and hands, bright stars Fair children, cradle water graves Vast river, spirits, can you hear us pray? Arise, hear my lullabies How I wreck my broken love upon unlived lives Vast river, dark waters I drown in lament endlessly Spirit guide, river stag arise Eyes ablaze and steaming hide Pull treasures from turbid waters Tisza's child clothed in liquid light Arise, awake, mystify How I drowning bathe in rivers that flood all hopes in water Final lord, and I will fly to thee

Submitted by Warbringer — Apr 25, 2025

When you whispered your secret Floating afar on a winter's fog You lashed your saint So I sing my silent vow Nothing in this world lives on, my friend Nothing in this world brings back our silent vow I need answers for my passion I need answers to life's questions I wish to live like all men I was bound by many hopes I wish to live like all men I was bound by many hopes We have to pay the price The witching hour of this dream Your eyes red from the salt of the sea And the sucking voyage of the ache that came from me Nothing in this world lives on, my friend Nothing in this world brings back our silent vow I need answers for my passion I need answers to life's questions I wish to live like all men I was bound by many hopes I wish to live like all men I was bound by many hopes We have to pay the price In the bluish shade of the garden I contemplate In the bluish shade of the grove I grow to hate In the bluish shade I find the path of paths The consequence of this love The consequence of my first love I wish to live like all men I was bound by many hopes I wish to live like all men I was bound by many hopes We have to pay the price My new chant begins No longer scared of my life

Submitted by Corpse Grinder — Apr 25, 2025

In your name, cruel sacrifice Embrace my art Love let me go In your name, cruel goddess touch Embrace this song, thy wind, thy womb Virginal steps to be born Embrace this flesh I need to know Under dark moon wolf-skin throne Flowered thy nymphs Let flow thy womb I don't need anyone I don't love anyone Embrace the art of letting go Away washed in velvet tide I tremble as I kiss your shores I lay upon endless sands Worship a voice beyond my own On the plains of Nysa I die; When I arise, I mourn alone Your love fails me far from home Embrace my art of letting go I don't need anyone I don't love anyone Artemis, please be kind to me My own wolves will soon devour me Artemis, please be kind to me My own wolves will soon devour me

Submitted by Dahmers Fridge — Apr 25, 2025

To bright palace of gold sun I fly on flaming steed To steer my father's god wings O please, fulfill my dream My queen is the bright-haired sun Herald young horse master Crescendo the dawn chorus Bow to bronzen pilot As Pantheon blessed sky father Fly to the gods: Few mortals have flown on wings Fierce idols drive blood son Through black heavens So how shall I dream? I'll weave a new verse each dawn for you I fear I follow illusion Is this my final veil? The mirage of the phoenix From ashes daily arises

Submitted by SerpentEve — Apr 25, 2025

D'Oreste, d'Ajace Ho in seno i tormenti D'Aletto la face Già morte mi dà Squarciatemi il core Ceraste, serpenti O un ferro il dolore in me finirà ["D'Oreste, d'Ajace" is an Aria from the Italian opera Idomeneo, composed by Mozart in 1781; the libretto was written by Giambattista Varesco]

Submitted by Immortal — Apr 25, 2025

My white canoe, like the silvery air O'er the River of Death that darkly rolls When the moons of the world are round and fair I paddle back from the Camp of Souls When the wishtonwish in the low swamp grieves Come the dark plumes of the red singing leaves Two hundred times have the moons of spring Rolled over the bright bay's azure breath Since they decked me with plumes of an eagle's wing And painted my face with the paint of death The camp of souls The camp of souls And from thy pipe o'er my corpse there broke The solemn rings of the blue last smoke Two hundred times have the wintry moons Wrapped the dead earth in a blanket white Two hundred times have the wild sky loons Shrieked in the flush of the golden light The camp of souls The camp of souls They chanted above me the song of grief As I took my way to the spirit land For love is the breath of the soul set free So I walk a river that darkly rolls That my spirit may whisper soft to thee Of thine who wait in the Camp of Souls When the bright day laughs, or the wan night grieves Come the dark plumes of red singing leaves [Adapted from the poem "The Camp of Souls", written by Isabella Valancy Crawford (1850-1887)]

Submitted by SerpentEve — Apr 25, 2025

Once there was myth and mystery Now we destroy our ancient verse, our history The eyes of my comrades watching, they haunt me Dream a sinking ship in waters green Death down to fate My sacrifice, sorrow fathoms deep The vision of a golden country, it haunts me Dome of fragile glass: hunger to thieve Children shelter in paper arms, stolen refugees The torture to confess not to betray, Love Ministry Cold-hearted secrets lie mute in ice, no tongue to speak What's always been and always it shall be lost to lies These icy tongues of wordless thoughts They've never been and never they shall be

Submitted by Celtic Frost — Apr 25, 2025

Since recorded time and since the dawn of man There have been three types of men The low man (to) the high man The rending of the world into three great superstates Was long foretold in the halls of men A floating fortress guards the secrets of the ocean ways Fending the floodgates from the sword of truth Since the machine The meek and the low christen the kingdom's coming Building the great machines of war Men feed machines this century of the dark Coming of the hour of the kingdom of night Dies irae, dies illa Solvet saeclum Dies irae, dies illa Solvet saeclum in favilla The act of war, destruction Mankind cannot grow stronger Teste Orwell cum Sibylla Quantus tremor est futurus Keep the wheels of knowledge turning Power battles, power battles, highest hopes of men Smell horses' breath and the sweat for lies Three times I dreamt this verse; three times I cast my curse As was foretold in the halls of men Since the machine The low man (to) the high man Since recorded time and since the dawn of man There have been three types of men

Submitted by Immortal — Apr 25, 2025