~~Final Speech of Cedric~~ .......The Holy Wars....... .....Circa 12th Century....
O God in your heaven What have we done? In your name we have rode To bring enlightenment To the heathens. I stand here looking upon A field where life's blood Seeps back into the earth. No longer have I the heart To carry this shield and sword Against the peasants Who in their simplest of days Know you better than we That strike them down. Under the guise of your name We plunder and pillage - Take all we can leaving behind Nothing but charred remains of once a village. Nary a grave but a pyre strewn high Lighted with yet another soul to burn forever.
Who
sent us - lest we forget... To claim but pieces of gold and silver Lining the coffers of the greedy nobles? Noble, indeed! What say they to see the children Torn between horses; dragged til dead? There is no honour or higher good Done in the torture I see before me. Women spired upon blade as they run With babes in their arms. These tears I shed will not cleanse My soul nor bring peace To my terror-filled sleepless nights. Bring my friend to me that he May look into mine eyes and upon Seeing my pain take it for treason. I am but a coward To fall upon my own sword; Let he that loves me Give me the gift of peace I seek.
~~~~plh...c/r 2/9/00~~~~
~The
Lady Margwyn~
Shrouded
in veil and robes of white
She walked amoung the villagers
Feeling their joy and anticipation
Of this ancient celebration.
Her soul lay heavy in her breast
For what she knew to come.
Within the Sacred Pool she had
Envisioned the sacrifice.
~
The sun Blessed this congregation
As he bid his silent retreat
Beyound the horizon.
In the briefest of moments...in the gloaming,
The Keeper of the Flame appeared,
Bearing torch to the pyre -
Igniting the night.
The Lady moved as if her feet ne'er touched the ground
To stand atop the knoll.
Swaying slightly, breathing deeply
She called to the Godess.
The villagers waited...anxious to hear the year's portents.
She looked briefly upon the one, looked upon
Him with loving regret and sorrow
And in that moment he knew what he had truly done.
In her eyes he saw her forgiveness of his betrayal
As the Centurions marched in;
Their clattered footfalls breaking this Sacred Silence.
Sword clashed with wood as her tears fell silent.
Drawing from the Universe and the Mother
She spoke softly tho her voice carried
O'er the wailing. "Unhand mine children"
Was her simple call.
All before her turned to see
An apparition holy, though in the eyes of
The Romans twas simply the devil's play.
One advanced, striking a single blow with his blade.
While his comrades came forward with
Sacrilege and torture to purge this land,
The Lady called the mysts to shroud and protect
Her people from the ignorance borne of man's fear.
She watched from above herself
As the vehicle she lived in was desecrated
And in the final moments of the fleshly life
The Captain of the Guard handed to the Betrayer
His sword...allowing him the final blow.
He took the heavy blade in hand, walked slowly
To the fallen body; his soul screaming and crying
Of his love for her never requited.
In his final anguish of guilt and anger
Did strike, not once, but thrice
Then did fall upon the upturned blade.
