Ballads, Folklore & Songs from Ages Past
Ballads, Folklore & Songs from Ages Past
'The Pincher, The Ire, and The Rot'
'The Pincher, The Ire, and The Rot'
Clavicus Fincher was always a pincher;an insistent skin twister, a habit persister.
Foes or friends were just means to his ends;every way which, just places to pinch.
A cry, a yelp, pleas for mercy or help;he listened not ever, with fingers flesh-tethered.
All about town, people moaned and growled;young Clavicus they cursed, while his handiwork they nursed.
Then one night dark, came a creature so stark;his face obscured, and his skin made of bark.
In him Fincher saw, a challenge, and awe;relief with little purchase would be his final hurrah!
But anywhere he tried, Fincher just could not pry;his squeezers denied; his appetite dry.
The thing stood bewildered as young Clavicus gasped;And the gathered folk laughed, at the boy with no grasp.
Then to their lament, came this thing's true intent:he snatched up poor Clavicus, and away from them they went.
"Naughty wee children," the beast then roared,"Should keep hands to themselves, save for helping with chores."
"Hands are for flossing, and brushing, and washing.Raised only in question, and for nary aggression."
"Henceforth take this lesson, all you kiddies and tots,Or soon, you too, I'll bring out to The Rot."
Foes or friends were just means to his ends;every way which, just places to pinch.
A cry, a yelp, pleas for mercy or help;he listened not ever, with fingers flesh-tethered.
All about town, people moaned and growled;young Clavicus they cursed, while his handiwork they nursed.
Then one night dark, came a creature so stark;his face obscured, and his skin made of bark.
In him Fincher saw, a challenge, and awe;relief with little purchase would be his final hurrah!
But anywhere he tried, Fincher just could not pry;his squeezers denied; his appetite dry.
The thing stood bewildered as young Clavicus gasped;And the gathered folk laughed, at the boy with no grasp.
Then to their lament, came this thing's true intent:he snatched up poor Clavicus, and away from them they went.
"Naughty wee children," the beast then roared,"Should keep hands to themselves, save for helping with chores."
"Hands are for flossing, and brushing, and washing.Raised only in question, and for nary aggression."
"Henceforth take this lesson, all you kiddies and tots,Or soon, you too, I'll bring out to The Rot."
'Abyss' by H.G. Gorrano
'Abyss' by H.G. Gorrano
I wonder, I wonder,By stars' faded light,Where you lay your head this night.
Do feather, and cloth,Silks, linen and thread,Hold more tender, than were I with thee, abed?
It brings blue feeling,To know all I can glean,Of being with you is found in-dream.
By what misfortune,Does my heart beseech,That which lies so far out of reach.
I'm afeared to lose,Not what I have not,But the longing that drives me to such thought.
For what then,Would I be, if not this?Wind-tossed chaser of beauty, and bliss?
Ever-wanting,Ever-seeking,Lost in endless abyss.
Do feather, and cloth,Silks, linen and thread,Hold more tender, than were I with thee, abed?
It brings blue feeling,To know all I can glean,Of being with you is found in-dream.
By what misfortune,Does my heart beseech,That which lies so far out of reach.
I'm afeared to lose,Not what I have not,But the longing that drives me to such thought.
For what then,Would I be, if not this?Wind-tossed chaser of beauty, and bliss?
Ever-wanting,Ever-seeking,Lost in endless abyss.
'The Words Unheard'
'The Words Unheard'
Words foreboding pass like wind, unfelt by the castled and clothed.
The gust's chill, taken for arousal;the poor, to war, are betrothed.
Interred be they who know it best, Their protests trapped in place of rest.
The march begins, the cycle spins,Our nature, emergent, attests-
Fruitful morns and raucous eves,borne of peace,But Histories made of violence.
After warning words have ceased,All's left is deafening silence.
Come to fill is bitter disdain-A gale of hate, without respite.
Rivers of blood water the graves-bloom to woe and encroaching blight.
The gust's chill, taken for arousal;the poor, to war, are betrothed.
Interred be they who know it best, Their protests trapped in place of rest.
The march begins, the cycle spins,Our nature, emergent, attests-
Fruitful morns and raucous eves,borne of peace,But Histories made of violence.
After warning words have ceased,All's left is deafening silence.
Come to fill is bitter disdain-A gale of hate, without respite.
Rivers of blood water the graves-bloom to woe and encroaching blight.
'Red Coffers' or 'The Night The Dark Came to Westmark'
'Red Coffers' or 'The Night The Dark Came to Westmark'
“Go now, my son,” he said,“The ci-ty is to bed,we shan’t let this chance go by!”
Glinting co-llection,Shining re-flection,Danced like fires in his eyes.
A midnight bur-glary,This thie-very sortie,To abate his yearn for coin.
“But father!” I’d pro-test,“Be they not inn-ocent?"These words of caution were denied.
Rooftop to rooftop,Slick from the raindrop,Bounding out in-to the night.
Knives at the rea-dy,Should it turn de-adly,Plights for Peace they shan’t abide.
“Look, there, my boy,” he beamed,“The watchmen are in-dream,the noble’s keep left open wide!”
“But father!” I did warn,“Their armour’s all been torn,some great evil waits inside!”
Glinting co-llection,Shining re-flection,Danced like fires in his eyes.
A midnight bur-glary,This thie-very sortie,To abate his yearn for coin.
“But father!” I’d pro-test,“Be they not inn-ocent?"These words of caution were denied.
Rooftop to rooftop,Slick from the raindrop,Bounding out in-to the night.
Knives at the rea-dy,Should it turn de-adly,Plights for Peace they shan’t abide.
“Look, there, my boy,” he beamed,“The watchmen are in-dream,the noble’s keep left open wide!”
“But father!” I did warn,“Their armour’s all been torn,some great evil waits inside!”
With that, we took to flight,Went streaking through the night,Qui-et like wraiths and holding fast!
But what we saw beyond,Would see the brave abscond-Ter-ror himself would be aghast!
A haunting vi-sage,Dark-clad and vi-cious,Some Strange vil-lain from the black!
My sight then failed me,My soul turned empty, It reared back and then attacked!
And so now in its wake,I lie dead but-awake,Cursed to walk these hollow halls…
Plund’rers and robber-men,Come and come again,The Dark, smiling, takes them all.
Though you may roll your-eyes,Sni-cker and criticize,Take my words as they’re read.
Run now and far-away,Thieve then another day,Lest you haunt these Coffers Red…
But what we saw beyond,Would see the brave abscond-Ter-ror himself would be aghast!
A haunting vi-sage,Dark-clad and vi-cious,Some Strange vil-lain from the black!
My sight then failed me,My soul turned empty, It reared back and then attacked!
And so now in its wake,I lie dead but-awake,Cursed to walk these hollow halls…
Plund’rers and robber-men,Come and come again,The Dark, smiling, takes them all.
Though you may roll your-eyes,Sni-cker and criticize,Take my words as they’re read.
Run now and far-away,Thieve then another day,Lest you haunt these Coffers Red…
'The Fires of Freeholm'
'The Fires of Freeholm'
The Dragon's claw was mighty, yes,But dull, and spread too wide.We took a chance, grabbed hold and danced, together turned the tide.
We got up from the ashes,Caught the masters on their asses-
They ain't gonna whip no more!
Glory, glory, what a hell of a way to rise! (x3)
They ain't gonna whip no more!
We took all we could find and dragged it all down to the forge.We worked our fingers to the bone, left all our muscles sore.We gathered up our rifles, and The Elder Dragon roared!
She ain't gonna whip no more!
(Chorus)
She ain't gonna whip no more!
She sent the Riders, sent the locks,She sent the Terrorwings!We brushed them off, looked back and scoffed,"Is that all you could bring?"
She had the Giants take a walk,And Gouger took a swing!
She ain't gonna whip no more!
(Chorus)
She ain't gonna whip no more!
The Elder Dragon whined and thrashed,Complained, bemoaned, and mourned."My poor old Legion's been wiped out,Its leaders' flayed and gored!
Curse that old Adonius!"the Heavens, she implored!
And she ain't gonna whip no more!
We got up from the ashes,Caught the masters on their asses-
They ain't gonna whip no more!
Glory, glory, what a hell of a way to rise! (x3)
They ain't gonna whip no more!
We took all we could find and dragged it all down to the forge.We worked our fingers to the bone, left all our muscles sore.We gathered up our rifles, and The Elder Dragon roared!
She ain't gonna whip no more!
(Chorus)
She ain't gonna whip no more!
She sent the Riders, sent the locks,She sent the Terrorwings!We brushed them off, looked back and scoffed,"Is that all you could bring?"
She had the Giants take a walk,And Gouger took a swing!
She ain't gonna whip no more!
(Chorus)
She ain't gonna whip no more!
The Elder Dragon whined and thrashed,Complained, bemoaned, and mourned."My poor old Legion's been wiped out,Its leaders' flayed and gored!
Curse that old Adonius!"the Heavens, she implored!
And she ain't gonna whip no more!