Long ago in endless time
Somewhere in empty space
The Gods gave substance to themselves
And to this earthly place.
Then the sons of the Gods chose the earth
To carry on a fight
That started in another place
Between darkness and the light.
Now the Arya were the sons of the Gods
And order was their cause,
For chaos cannot prosper
In the light of Nature’s laws.
The Arya spread across the earth
And taught the Folkish way,
And for a time order reigned,
But ’twas a short lived day.
For darkness had a battle plan
And an army all in place.
‘Twas stealth and wealth and cunning
In the hands of an alien race.
The alien brought the darkness
To every folkish land,
Stole their wealth and heritage
With usury’s hidden hand.
Purchased kings and fostered wars
So kindred Folk were slain
By those of selfsame kin and blood
On every earthly plain.
The alien taught the Arya
That a Nation’s not a Race,
Nor culture, nor kin, nor heritage,
Nor even similar face.
A Nation is wealth and power,
And a National anthem, they cry,
A rag called a flag, and a line in the ground,
For this the Arya should die.
So Persian slew Greek,
And Roman fought all
From east of the Tigris
To Britain and Gaul.
The blood of the White man
All shed in vain
Norman and Saxon,
Celtic and Dane.
The alien taught Arya names for the Gods
And no one did object,
Though son may call sire only father,
All else is disrespect.
So Arya slew Arya
For Mithra and Thor,
For Christus and Zeus,
And Jove they slew more.
There came a time that Christiandom
And Europe quailed in fear
As dragon ships prowled the coasts
And Woden’s sons drew near.
The pope brought forth an inquisition
To reinforce his claims.
Protestants and sons of Woden
Burned in Catholic flames.
Allfather was the Norseman’s God.
To Christians that’s a sin.
“Our Father” had a better sound,
So they slew their Nordic kin.
And so the seeds of death were sown
Among the Arya Folk.
The alien only had to deal
The final fatal stroke.
America was the name of the sword
That ended Arya light.
In Dixie first, and then in Europe
She brought the alien night.
I hear the voices of a murdered race
Whispering to me and you
From the graves of Dixie and Europe:
Beware of the Red, White and Blue.
Too late my friend, you read this ode,
It’s written in a prison cell.
And the last generation of White children
Are condemned to a living hell.
Aryan child with skin so fair,
With eyes of blue and green,
And ladies with tresses of auburn and gold
Will never again be seen.
This is the dread that tortures my soul
And demands to my last breath
That struggle I must to wake my kin
From nearby sleep of death.
>Source: Renegade Tribune