VASSUS

1. FORGOTTEN EMPIRES

Graves! line the walls of the temple.
Their tributes are written in stone.

Kingdoms rise and fall
Making oaths of blood and wine
Our landsmen fight to die
by the whim of those who cower and hide

Still we march with fork and spear
Our brothers by our side

Long lost under earth
Secrets will die
With those who once held them

Tales of woe and of war
Are all that is left
Of the men who had lived them

((((break))))

Safe behind a curtain of stone and of steel
The fat have their feast and fair.

In the fields with sword and with scythe
The air, grows thick with the smoke of
rebellion.
The flames thirst for the nobleman's blood

Kingdoms rise and fall
Making oaths of blood and wine
Our landsmen fight to die
by the whim of those who cower and hide!!!!

Empires!!!! Build on Stone and Steel!!!

Empires!!!! Made of Dust and Bone!!!!

Long lost under earth
Secrets will die
With those who once held them

Tales of woe and of war
Are all that is left
Of the men who had lived them


2. A SANCTUARY AMID THE TREES

Spires of green!
Towers of stone!
High up above!
On the hill top alone!


Between the lush green
Towers high the castle keep
Sitting proud upon it's earthen throne

Valleys stretch between the hills
They dip and rise like emerald waves
Seen by those at the spires top.

Glimmers of steel from sickle and spear
sparkle between the fields of wheat
As the village goes about its day.

The rattle of carts and hooves
Upon the cobbled roads fills the air
As they bring in the harvest.


Ages pass, The Tress grow old
Having seen many lifetimes flicker by

Time weakens all, no one is spared
As the first stones begin to fall

Kingdoms, Castles and Empires
Crumble beneath the weight ages past


Fields burn, salted earth,
The tides of invaders.
Leaving death in their wake

The castle stands, upon it's mound
protector to its people.
Curtain wall standing tall

Battles are fought, many die
But those still left standing
Go on to rebuild

Tales are told throughout the lands
Chronicles of these battles
So their memories will live on.

As the pages of history slowly decay
Wars and Kingdoms are forgotten

Those who fought, die their second death!


3. THE FINAL STONES TO FALL

The last stone to fall,
Marks the end of an age.
Nature's Reclaim!

Structures of man
no matter how grand
Always return to dust!



This boundary of flesh,
Will never endure,
Like the walls built around me.

Millennia Pass,
Men go to die,
To safeguard these lands

For the thousands that stood,
In awe of these walls,
so tall and so proud.

See the ravages of time on the ancient stones!

Mighty Trees line the edge,
Surrounding the hill,
Bracken hide beneath them.

Where a keep once stood tall,
An emerald crown,
Now crests the hilltop.


Crumbling walls, Yet still so grand,
Veiled in Flora and Fauna.

Yet the stones continue to fall,
The patter of ages upon the soil.


The last stone to fall,
Marks the end of an age.
Nature's Reclaim!

Structures of man
no matter how grand
Always return to dust!


Felling,
These objects of man
Monuments to our safety

Desires,
Of distant kings
Far from the shores of these lands.

Towns are built
Beneath the towering walls
Trading and thriving

Battlements,
Armed and ascended
Watching from on high


Time comes for all,
Unity in death,
We rot and become the earth itself

From the grass, to the trees,
Flowers and the bees,
The cycle of nature is eternal!

Eugh!


The last stone to fall!

Nature's Reclaim!

Structures of man!

Always return to dust!


HEMLOKK

4. A DOWNPOUR IN EARLY NOVEMBER

Rain taps the glass like faded leaves falling from a half barren tree,
during a downpour in early November,
The musty scent of rotting wood.
Herbs hang dry,
like wooden beams that hold them.
Gathering, by the rays of a clouded sun,
timidly gleam through old windowpane.


5. WHISPERS FROM THE MIRE

Towering above green pastures,
Swaying, in the wind,
Flow softly, the icy river,
Wraithlike mists arising.


The scent of autumn,
Fills our lungs with life,
Whispers from the mire,
Tell their tales wearily,
Tales of seasons past,
These olde lands survive the aeons,
Reclaiming their soil, roots run profound,
Yearning for the return of nature.


6. THE BRACKEN CROWN

Life in the undergrowth,
Lively crickets resembling the familiar sound,
Of crackling fire on a barren hill,
Overlooking the rolling landscape,
Dense ever green trees,
Clustered together,
Mirroring clouds above.


Shades of green melt into blue as our eyes meet the horizon,
Illuminated by a setting sun,
Golden glowing sky,
Like yellow flowers that scatter the grasslands,
laying on damp forest ground.