KOMMODUS

1. SACRIFICES TO JUPITER

*The winds of change are blowing in Latium. To understand these shifts are always occurring and instead carve our own path untethered.*

The eternal city of marble gathers in awe
A new emperor erected, draped in purple
An altar surrounded by relinquished flesh
Slaughter ensues to appease the head god

Sacrifices to Jupiter

The pagan pantheon nears its twilight
Screams of sacrifice a pained swan song
Rust and erosion, antiquity in detritus
An accomplishment it could survive so long

But in this moment, staring down an uncertain future
The crowd kneels before the holy sanguine ritual
Right now spiritually married to the gods of their day
But soon to be enamoured with competing thought taking sway

But such is the nature of all things, new winds arise
All strangleholds eventually lost, all structures meet their demise
We must disregard these husks of discarded triumph and defeat
And remember there’s only this moment, a time to sew and reap

On our journeys...


2. TO WRESTLE WITH ANGELS

*The origins of human-beings are from stardust. And our progenitors have awoken from cosmic slumber, returning to erase their failed offspring, mankind. But we rise to fight.*

Haunted by the ghosts of my failures, a pallbearer of self
Mental tides rage and crash, turmoil I wouldn’t wish on anyone else
Dragging myself across coals and broken glass, I bleed
But there’s nothing stronger than persevering, staring down a future only I can see

How many times have I died inside?
How many times have I shed my skin?
No longer will I collapse into myself like a dying star
I reject self-imposed exile, I know who I am and what my obstacles are

Harness nocturnal tyranny, against malevolent angels birthed from an interstellar sea
To combat the divine wielding fruit of life, cosmic assassins here to hunt and feed

Slay the fear in my mind with its constant timorous slither
Cauterise my wounds and expunge the doubt from my soul
On my own chiselling a stone path from turmoil
With an iron grip, wrestling thine celestial

And the angels keep appearing, waging their war one by one
To erase mankind and silence god’s greatest error
But not without war, my fate chained to none
I rise to fight, a human fortress, here to wrestle with angels...


3. THE CELESTIAL CYCLE BROKEN

*Winning the fight against our celestial foe, interring them, and becoming our own gods.*

And together we slay the great giants, progenitors of species
Reinvent the gods, replacing them with our own
Morticians of the divine, untethered by base morality
Immolate the past, scrape the char for a new destiny

We bury their colossal remains
And from the decay rich flowers bloom
Carrying the sweet scent of dawn
Severed from the last angel, we are reborn

No longer do I fear a cosmic balance or ancient morality
No longer do I fear a karmic debt collector reaping on my reality
We are the cycle broken, we are Valerian freed
We make our own myths, immortalised in our deeds


PAN-AMERIKAN NATIVE FRONT

4. KIVA FLAMES OF REBELLION

Risen from the Kiva
Kachina Rites of Old
Clandestine Acts of Piety
Deerskins of Revolt!

Stow! Grab the knotted cord!
Po’pay! Flames of rebellion roar!

Years of abominable suffering
Famine, drought, and war
Curse the rotten wood!
Burn the Mission through!

Puebloan spirit, man to man
Under the name of Po'pay
We'll fight as one
We enter the war against
eradication of our being!

Sipapu Firestorm!

Kiva! Flames!
Of Rebellion! Roar!


5. HASAN'OWANE BREATHE OF REMONSTRATION

Brothers, you say that you are sent
To instruct us how to worship the Great Spirit
Agreeably to his mind
And if we do not take hold
We shall be unhappy hereafter

You say that you are right
And we are lost
How do we know this to be true?
How?!

We are told that your religion
Was given to your forefathers
We also have a religion
Which was given to our forefathers

You say there is but one way
To worship and serve the Great Spirit
If there is but one religion; why do you white people differ so much about it?

Why not all agreed? As you can all read the book?
How do we know this to be true?!
How?!


6. WASHANI STONES OF RESURRECTION

Return of the drums beating like hearts
Dreams of the ancient prophet’s dance
Ceremony from the generations
Washani stones of resurrection

Lenape guardian, Waiilitpu bound
Scourge of conversion, rejection of the plow,
Decorated war paint, blood stained breech-clout
Tear the Mission walls! Burn it to the ground

Refuge! There can be no peace
Refuge! Shelter from disease
Refuse! The gospel from the East
Refuse! The service of the priest

Then when we die we can not be taken to rest.
Then when we die we can not be born again.
To be rich like white men, is not the way.
To dare to cut off the hair of the Earth. We shall not!