The Course of Empire

Empires rise, empires fall Atlantean tombs, imperial halls history's volumes Have but one page Ever westward The Course of Empire Takes its eternal way

Submitted by Morgoth — Apr 26, 2025

From the dim red dawn of Creation, From the fogs of timesless time Came we, the first great nation, First on the upward climb. Savage, untaught, unknowing, Groping through primitive night, Yet faintly catching the glowing, The hint of the coming Light. Ranging the lands untraveled, Buildung our land-marks of stone. Vaguely grasping at glory, Gazing beyond our lore. See, how the Lost Fire smolders, We are one with the eons' must. Nations have trod on our shoulders, Trampling us into the dust. Holy - Holy - Song of Death and Birth Ghost Kings are chanting Of tragedy and mirth We, the first of the races, Linking the Old and the New - Look, where the sea-cloud spaces Mingle with ocean-blue. So we have mingled with ages, And the world-wind our ashes stirs, Vanished are we from Time's pages, Our Memory? Wind in the firs. Holy - Holy - Ever-turning Wheel The Alpha and Omega Ouroboros unveiled And our heart still yearns But the world, unheed, turns Ancient - Hidden - People of the moon Our hills were already ancient When Caesars met their doom Endless - Eternal - Ever-turning Wheel The Alpha and Omega Ouroboros of steel Forsaken - Forgotten - We are a fading race Ghost Kings are marching From thousand yesterdays The shining roads of morning, The ages golden truth. We walked in Arcadia (When) The world was wild with youth Drums of Pictdom call... calling us home. Holy – Holy – Song of Death and Birth Ghost Kings are chanting Of tragedy and mirth Holy – Holy – Song of Death and Birth Ghost Kings are chanting Of tragedy and mirth Armies of Aryas came Riding on chariots of clouds Taking our lands Our hunting grounds fell to their ploughs And our harp still weeps But the world, unheeding, sleeps

As Sons of Adonai we descend from our thrones on Kharsag To take the daughters of men and bring knowledge to mortal kind We walk as giants among mankind The heroes of olde, vulture winged shamans Viper faced messengers of the One Where the four rivers run, behind the volcanic gates of Cherubs Seven heavens to pass to enter the sanctuary Lion of Chaldea – first of the sons of men Titans march from Eden and nations rise in our wake From the cedars of Lebanon we ride forth to the walls of Eridu Building temples and cities as our heritage in steel and stone As tall as a mountain there is a tree and knowledge grows with every leaf In a valley surrounded by fire whence the lords of obsidian ride Towards the timeless Pantheon, the Heroes’ Journey goes on And on and on ... Lion of Chaldea First of the sons of men Titans march from Eden And nations rise in their wake

Submitted by SerpentEve — Apr 26, 2025

Blow ye trumpets in thy walls Sound an alarm to mountain halls Tremble all ye who have heard the call For another kingdom falls Down from the midnight mountain, descending for slaughter Driven by whips the pounding of thundering wheels Their vanguard – an eternal flame As they come blazing through the meads Our green and pleasant land lay once like Eden Our radiant cities – now a desolate waste Like blades of grass men can stand not When the kiss of hooves they taste Raining steel – prophets call Flaming wheel – kingdoms fall Chariots – They came on chariots Chariots – chariots of Volcanic Gods Cities fall – oh, let the strong survive! Idols break – Devouring Rage Brimstone, fire and smoke Invincible fire devoureth all who oppose them Five horned generals commanding the numinous flame Plague, rage, bloodlust, agony And anguish are their names No gold, no copper they were searching They were coming not for steel Before their gods of fire They have brought us all to kneel

Through the Darkness – we must wander To red horizons – the mountain yonder Calling us homeward, beckoning white from afar Our paths are perilous, our spirits ponder Where there is hardship, there may be wonder When there is silence, we hear his thunder Our hearts a temple – guarding the innermost light The spear to split all – despair asunder And in our souls we build an empire A sacred stronghold, cathedral’s spires A ship to speed us through this tellurian toil Towards the hearth of ancestral fires Our king will come from his throne on Masis The sacred hero of thousand faces Our fallen forebears – ascend from their coffinless graves And soothe their longing in the innermost light Ancestral communion in dimensions of light No more woe in the palace of light

Submitted by Celtic Frost — Apr 26, 2025

When our cities were on fire and the bells of Atland rang We swore to keep the words enshrined in blood and stone And when the men of Yamna came, riding from the eastern plains We fled into the hills as the hidden folk of olde And we inscribed our lore in discs of bronze to trace the pathways of the stars Ancestral stones still praise the sun, along the wild Atlantic shores And from the forests we watched them grow old while in their tales we became gods A Secret Byzantium, wherever there is knowledge Hidden in tradition, praise and adoration A mouth of fire, a sword of stars and silver A mind to set the world ablaze, our tongue is lightning Our shield tradition and memory, where there is knowledge we will find A Secret Byzantium Our voice was heard in Agdos rising from mephitic chasms As a falling star, our mother nourished Roma’s rise And the lord of Makedonia built a city by the sea There a temple rose, the fortress of our ken And as the towers fell we watched from afar (A crescent moon rise to the east) Now thousand voices drown our song (Confusion of this modern age) Abandoned now the Agora lies as the haze of burning books blinds the mind And so our glory passed with the pounding of hooves, and every truth became a dream A mouth of fire, A sword of stars and silver A mind to set the west ablaze A Trail of Wisdom, We blaze through heathen darkness Where there is knowledge we will keep a Secret Haven – a Secret Byzantium

Submitted by Warbringer — Apr 26, 2025

On roads of ash through fields of sorrow, Through years of joy and times of grief The pilgrim’s heart is guided by longing, Ever wandering towards his home In the end who is spared from leaving? Despite his gold and all his grace? Is a man not bound to go there? Dark is the forest, where all roads end …Am I shield adorned with turquoise? Am I a stone in a mosaique? Am I as the mountains? Or the wind or the sun or the rain? Will my kin conquer or fade? Will I ever walk this earth again? Will they shroud me in fine robes? Will my name be carved into memory‘s stone? Will my scions remember my deeds and my name? Walls rise cold and speechless in the plains as the winds of eternity rage Louder in the distance drums are calling – And the ghosts of my ancestors rise Where I must tread – noone can follow, out in the plains it is dark and cold The narrow path – and noone can join me No golden tombs – our kingdom is not of this world So silent the green forests of my homeland, where the dreams of my childhood once lived Louder, in the distance, drums are calling Our days fall fast behind us with autumn in the east The sobering holy water tastes so bitter on our lips How can I find the way home, when winter rules the land? When father sun has left me, what comes after the end? Under tall oaks in fragrant orchards my footfall echoes, when the tempests of spring cleanse the world Louder – in the distance , drums are calling Where the blood of my ancestors lies Here on earth I think of those who came before me and of Him who walks behind the years At the gates I muse upon Generations to be as the sound of drums draws near On roads of ash through fields of longing, through nights of wonder and oceans of grief All from the golden days of childhood, life is the debt we all pay in death

Submitted by Grave666 — Apr 26, 2025

Where the sea ends and Clouds fade to colours There lies a land Where I ruled as king I was a child When I last heard the spell of the western sea Now I wander forlorn in the east A Pilgrim among wolves and thieves Praying for the unending sleep

Submitted by Immortal — Apr 26, 2025

As gold turns into brown, the autumn of an era Our clarion Harps fall silent – Twelve Stars are stained in blood The graves of Mare Nostrum, Mother Europe trembling And nameless ghosts of guilt haunt sanctuaries forlorn In this era of confusion tradition’s saferope is cut All thrones in earth and heaven – devoured by Mammon’s wrath An old enemy stirs discord. dark rumours from the frontlines False prophets spread his gospel, evoking Empire’s end Empires rise, empires fall. Conquering kings sleep in timeless halls Freedom and Glory, corruption at last. Ever westward the course of empire takes its eternal way And how shall we comfort ourselves – the murderers of all murderers? The noble, true and holy – we bled it with our knives Who’ll wipe this blood off our hands now? Which Arthur will rise to defend us? No sacred king can lead us, as nothing sacred’s left alive And now our future’s over, secular void unfolds Arcadian memories haunt us as discord’s taking hold The lands beneath the evening, in fire, blood and hate The drums of pictdom summon us back to the savage state Empires rise, empires fall, conquering kings, the White Goddess calls Freedom and Glory, desolation at last. Ever westward the course of empire takes its eternal way Empires rise and Empires fall – the moral of all human tales Cities shall crumble and all towers will break under the triumphant fist of time Yet from the ruins a flower will spring, the laurel wreath of future kings Titans march onward in perpetual strife, new kingdoms arise in their wake Empires rise and Empires fall, the moral of all human tales Titans march onward in perpetual strife, new kingdoms arise in their wake Children of Europe, Daughters of Eden, defiant, unbroken and free Raise proudly the torch of Enlightenment’s triumph The great wars are yet to come

Submitted by NecroGod — Apr 26, 2025

Wir haben keinen Fährmann mehr. Der Fährmann ist tot. Zwei Seen, kein Fährmann. Zu den Inseln gelangst du jetzt, wenn du ein Boot hast. Oder wenn du ein Boot bist. Oder du schwimmst. Aber schwimm mal, wenn die Eisbrocken in den Wellen klacken wie ein Windspiel mit tausend Stäben.

Submitted by Finntroll — Apr 26, 2025