Brocken Spectre

(Lyrics written for the band hvíldarlauss dauðr and their forthcoming album)

 

brocken-spectre

 

Rich descendant of its

Poor and stupid ancestors.

Hoard-obsessed giant,

Arms wide on its mountain.

 

“Oh yes, I am the light.

A rainbow shines out of my face.

Shadow-cast your little minds with

Crazed joy – keep you in your place.”

 

We are of dust and mountain rock

Crumbling like ash and powder,

Scattered about like stars

On pitch black.

 

Feet fused with foundations of rock,

Too much time to roar and stare.

If its face had formed, it would have

Mouth contorted in a grimaced grin.

 

Delirium – you’re blind to its cloud-stride,

Trembling bones at laughter’s crack,

Shivering in spatters of cold rain.

Yet the little feeble chant comes back:

 

You are of mist and mountain rock

Crumbling like ash and powder,

Scattered about like stars

On pitch black.

 

(That poor mortal tragedy,

Necks bent, shuffling in the dark.

Overshadowed by the mountain giant,

Ever crawling through the mud.)

 

Poor giant, as the light dims,

This light illusion blurs and breaks –

The cloud shifts, disturbed and rolling,

Pierced through by jagged peaks.

 

It ends, curled up, foetal,

Imagining its mother’s arms

But falling through dispersing fog

Turning to a broken ghost.

Brocken Spectre

Them Good Folk

There’s a lot o’ good people in the wasteland

Amongst the bastards on their lofty thrones.

Behind the screens we sit, an’ form a band

An’ dare ’em all ta break our thinnin’ bones.
 

I’ll ne’er see ye, not eye to eye, but read

The tappin’s on yer desk at witchin’ hours

An’ mark the words of anguish an’ of need

Ta find some form o’ touch that topples towers.
 

Exit the dungeon. Matters nah the likes

An’ loves forced at this time o’ the morn.

Support for fightin’ ghosts, or rousin’ strikes

Ta voice the discontent that feeds the scorn.
 

They’s out there, in the wasteland, them good folk –

Don’t shrivel back an’ silent shrink away.

Above the turret poke, an’ drop yer cloak,

Eyes open, smilin’ – join our happy play…

Them Good Folk