[Noalei]

I remember a long time ago I used to be REALLY REALLY into mythology and I wanted to make my own. Currently, I have sooo much info on my computer regarding that. I'm going to start posting it here for anyone who cares to read it. Please keep in mind that it's really strange and can seem totally confusing.



Sometimes, I can hear the wind calling to me
Telling me of the lives I once had led
Over the hills, I once held a fae knife
Yellow was my color, and blue could always follow
And if I ever got weary in the woods,
Nameless deities would walk me out by hand

When will I ever reclaim may fallen glory?
At a time when no one remembers my beliefs?
Ten thousand years from now, if I'm still searching
Say that you will drink the snow wine of wines
Under the tree that was sacred to me, cut the skin
Like sweet rain and take upon yourself the ruby wine
At a time when no one living hardly remembers me



Disgard yourself of that which you do not favor
Lady of the Shadows, caress those whom we still need
Rid yourself of the blasphemy that is salvation
Drown yourself in eterenality, the transcient dream

Take my sorrows, take my faith, float them on the wind
Lady of the Shadows, caress me all my days in your eyes
Why do we disregard those still living / tears for the fallen?
Eterenality---the pathway unto mysticism, the way to life

Disregard the memories of those who fell before you
Lady of the Shadows, make me myself again as only you could
Forget the laughter of those who are now lost to erena
She holds them now, in all eterenality, in her arms

Take my joy and take my pain, fold it into revelations
Lady of the Shadows, help me! They come this night and eve
Regard my fate and what I've done, Scvaca, take me in
Erena, the transcient memories that guide the soul

Forget not those who are still living, shed only tears for f'll'n
Lady of the Shadows, transcient entity, giver of my life
Let me be lost in the erena, those spirits only you speak to
They tell me eterenality was the right choice---was the only choice



Once, a firefly dared to look unto the velvet night sky
There, he glimpsed what should not, could never lie
He saw a drop of rain fixed in the piercing black dream
The firefly had seen something hidden, not meant to be seen

As he flew there, fluttering in luminescent mid-air,
He viewed the moon in all its glory, right near there
Long he stared, transfixed, into the moisture fae
He dared not to turn his eyes, lest he look away

In awe, in beauty, fell away the drop of dew
And down came it, a-falling, swift and quick and true
Minute hotaru felt the death upon his wings
He knew all hope was gone / flying without wings

When something has been glimpsed, a sight so divine
Sometimes it ruins you, for it truly transcends time
And takes away the lore of a common thought
Lost, fallen, fading, everything you had once sought

This dream that once was glorious in its eyes
Was shattered when he glimpsed the obisidian skies
Once shattered, some dreams you can never justify
And the only thing left to do / won't help if you cry

His wings are moist, his dreams are shattered
Flying, once, was all that, to him, mattered
Now that dream is shattered, lost in the wind
Free to flutter in the breeze / turn quick to sin

It's your only comfort, your only remorse
The only thought to comfort you, when you have no choice
But to fall into oblivion / take its hand, it'll lead you there
Into the celestial~astral realm of azure air

Turn to your memories, the dream of what once was
The time when you had what you long for, that does
Not need to fade away like your life's~fyre has done
Glimpse rain, hear the earth, feel the wind, touch the sun...


The dragons before you fell like crimson rain--their blood
I was able to swim from the claws of Scylla
--yet the thought of being without you left me gasping--drowning



Why do I feel warm? Thought I've turned from the sun...
Why do I still feel cold? As if I'm frozen from the run
Of icy, chilling, water that ran, once, through my veins...
It has faded now, it has healed me now, sweet healing rain

Where could I ever feel chilled again? Surely not in blackened death
I've felt those bonds already, they bind the soul, constrict the breath
Where could I ever feel burnt again? Somewhere in this world? Or in the air?
The air where ravens fly, where maidens glide, lead me to the astral heir

Oh, Astral Heir, and Celestial One beneath the timbre of the dream
What once was clear to me now, it is lost and dazzled, not what it would seem
To me if I had looked upon it long ago, into the dream I'll follow
Down the road that leads to joy; down that road that leads to sorrow

'neath the radiant and preternatural skies, I would seek my haven
Lifted on the velvet night black wings of the black bird---raven
Hear the call of that which was denied, that which was the ever-see
Open ears and hear the call of that which would soon turn to 'ternity



Once, I was the brightest fairy ever to draw breath
My heart was pure as dripping snow wine
And my eyes were as blue as a wintry-spring
My skin as fair as the baby stars above

But once I took the wings that were meant for me
Everything I knew before the wings was gone
I'm but a memory, and all memories turn to dust
And the dust isn't fae, for it's too pure for the breeze

And I left that life so long ago before my kin
My brood would not follow me, for I was lost to them
Everytime I pass that grove where I used to fly and sing
My heart melts with sorrow, as if ~it~ is remembering


I greet the moon every night with a loving hand
But it never answers back with its own

I feel like if I screamed as loud as I could
I would still be here in this fake reality

I want to be free of this dream that denies me
And all the things I pray for every night

I would give everything to walk amongst the clouds
Where my Kith are awaiting my arrival

I desire only the chance to glimpse Paradiso
For but a moment, then I'll disappear

I disappear after I see Paradiso, fading
In the glory that I know can never be my own



Being a Mayfair isn't all love and beauty
We're haunted by the dark spirit
That calls within the hour, even now
Be a part of me, my kin and kith

Fall beyond our mortal bonds
And let the purest be your friend
I can hear the spirit calling now
He speaks of love without end

Speaks of death and dying
But, oh, how he seduces
He's left his green mark on my neck
Oh, but, how he uses

He's not of this world
He's from somewhere far away
He's one who's undead and dying
Lasher'll one day see the day

Fall behind this immortal boundary
And let all before me fall in death
Let the sun be near you
When you draw your last breath

Because all this torment and agony
Is followed by the sincere dream
That not all things in this realm
Are sincerely what they seem

You can drop the pendant in the ocean
You can bar the doors for fear of me
You can hide in stone and briarwood
You can leave this realm of mortality

But I will drop my love for you
I will let the bar be broken
I will hide in shadows then
For me, you will soon send

I care for you, I dream of you
Writhing in your pure dreams
I can hear the shadows waving
It's a love without end


The whisper on the wind tells me of the day
When all who dwell here can fin'ly turn away
And set their minds back on the old and new
Shape their eyes back to the ancient and true

The calling of the earth lets me know of dying
When those powers we lose will begin the scrying
Into mirrors that will always hide the light
From the beacons of the velvet, blanket night

The echoes of the ocean resonate in time
When willows will turn to many, auld syne
The countless roads I'd choose to follow
The timeless roads that lead me to sorrow

The crackling and the burning fiery lair
Lead me up to the celestial, astral air
Unto that eternity that lies there forever
In the shady willows there, lying-there-ever


Come and seat the witches' seat
Join us now: Garden District, First Street
"That one's passed beyond this world"
'round the daughter's finger, the legacy's twirled

You take plane and I'll take land
Fly through sky, drive through sand
Meet the rain and meet the thunder
Tear this melancholy asunder

The storm is brewing this very hour
We're flying far and far to the witching hour
"She's still breathing, leave it there"
Three o'clock and she's not here


He’s coming now, a-riding on the storm of treachery and deceit, decay and plague. Maybe turn to worship him in all his glory, and he’ll spare your mortal soul the immortality in his domain? Take the chances, take the blackness of eternity into your consideration. Is it even sincerely possible to distinguish between eternity in oblivion or the divine pleasure of Her realm?
Far too long ago, our world was changed. Gods and Goddesses numbered the stars and blades of emerald grass. Now we flock to The One, to Her.
Before the change was made, there were countless arguments over the matter:

A female goddess?
What about Christ?
What’s her name?
A witch goddess!

And in retaliation, the true facts were brought up. The Virgin Mary was a woman, she gave birth to Jesus. Would you deny the Madonna her worship, after she gave you the Lord? This is nothing but political maneuvers–noone with a common sense would deny her the prayers she deserves, but those people do exist.
In the Burning Times, pray to a Woman God and you are a witch. Praise the Mother of Christ, and you are a witch. Don’t believe in Christ? Witch! When the free peoples of the time turned their eyes and hearts, and minds, to the Mother Goddess, they were tortured and burnt alive, living funeral pyres. They were the brightest stars in the sky those nights and times. They still shine brightly. They are the holy martyrs of our world.
The Romans speak of Satan, the “Horned God” of the worshiping witches. But, without malcontent, I can plainly say only the religions honoring Christ ever invoke the idea of Satan. It is then the plain fact that a worshiper of Satan is a Roman.
They say our Horned God is Satan, but only they revere him. Our God has horns for he is of the wild things, he walks on the cloven hooves of the goat and ram, the wilder beasts. He carries a handful of grapes, still dripping wine not yet made.
They say our Mother Goddess is evil, but she is so like Mary! She is the night sky, she is the lingering drops of winter clinging to the ground when spring is almost here. She is the dawn, the dusk, the eternity in all times and midnight. She is Isis, she is Diana, Artemis, Hecate, Demeter, Kali, Inanna, Ishtar...she is every feminine deity ever conceived. How could the Life Giver be evil?


In this age, this time, this day, the family is everything and everything we could desire. What once was the sight of lilies, pure and white starlight, now is myrrh and salt in open, gashing wounds. All that once was beautiful is awful now; so horrible are all the things that once I looked upon with a longing for an eternal vigil.
The family is everything today, and invariably always from now ‘til the end of time itself. The family is companionship, the family is nation. The family is our religion, our God, Goddess, Martyr, Walking From The Dead; our Horned God, our Mother Goddess–Christ himself.
We are happy to be together now. Our worries fell apart and down so far, as far as the angels from heaven above we witnessed falling into the brimstone and ever-lasting pyres of hell.

The family is our life.
Our lives are the family.

I will let these words lie here, always, a luminescent, phosphorescent beacon unto the peerless velvet black blanket of darkness that would dare to darken my path in this day–this age!


Swanmaiden:
Aa, lord let me speak with thee this night
I ask thee of the shadows you sent to me
That haunt my sleep and banish the light
Why would thou send such daemon to my lair?
Deity:
Oo, I sent them there and send I did
To take away your mortal bonds
The love and pain you feel, it is there
Way of making you into their pawn
Swanmaiden:
They tend to me most night and day
They say they’re here to guard my soul
But they’re only hear to chase away
All that I hold dear, cherish, and love
Deity:
Would you now, swan, mock my name?
Would you now, child, dare to breathe again?
Fall unto darkness eternal, let it be your only friend
Glide below the wintry sky, soar into the rain
Swanmaiden:
You curse me now, Oo, satyr of lies, bringer of hate
Harbringer, Ill Speech!, Benevolent Angel, I name thee
But look at the door, at Heaven’s Gate, there, just you wait...
My curse is upon you, I give you dreams and joy

This post has been edited by Noalei: 24 June 2005 - 02:07 AM

[Noalei]

Recently, during the last week of school, I did a report on the Burning Times. These are the pages if anyone cares to read it.



The Burnings Times

Ten Questions

1. How many witches were executed during the Burning Times?

2. What were the processes followed once a person was thought a witch?

3. Which people were mainly accused of witchcraft?

4. Why were these people accused of witchcraft?

5. What was the last execution of a witch during the Burning Times?

6. Were the accused witches mainly men or women?

7. What questions did the Inquisitors ask the witches?

8. Who was the head of the Inquisition?

9. Which country had the most witch executions?

10. Who was the most renown witch?



The Burnings Times

Outline

I. Introduction
A. Intro
B. Supreme Violence

II. General Information
A. Percentage Lost
B. Why Women Targeted

III. Religions That, Only Now, Exist
A. Wicca Did Not Exist
B. Christianity Credits Satan

IV. Beliefs That Transcended Time
A. Differ In Many Ways
B. The Horned God

V. The Victims
A. Victims of Accusations
B. Tituba, a Native Healer
C. Cats, the Witches’ Messengers
D. Not Delved Into Deeply

VI. The Inquisition
A. The Inquisitors
B. Torquemada

VII. Torture Too Terrible
A. Don’t Argue – They Already Know The Truth
B. Joan d’Arc
C. Horrendous Torture

VIII. Death Was Never Quick
A. For Days; For Months
B. Bones From The Sockets

IX. Begging For Death
A. Contacting The Devil
B. Accusing Under Torture
C. Barely Alive
D. The Lucky Ones



The Burning Times
The Burning Times is the era in our history, that no one now living has ever experienced, when innocent men and women, Christians and Pagans, midwives, native healers, wealthy women, and common people were forced under intense torture, pain and suffering, to admit to what Inquisitors called “witchcraft.” In only a few thousand years, almost nine million innocent lives were forsaken to the flame of the stake and the suffocation of water. The Burning Times were clearly the years, in the world’s history, that will always stand out as monuments forever engraved in our pasts of the supreme cruelty and wholly violent creations of the human minds of the most twisted people to ever set foot on our planet.
General Information

The Burning Times is the Wiccan term referring to the persecution and Christian extermination of “witches” in Europe that lasted thousands of years, mainly the late medieval and early renaissance periods. Only twenty-five percent of the total victims in all of Europe were men. The main targets of the extermination and persecution were innocent women.

The reason why women were targeted is held with awe and mystery. In the early years of humanity and humankind, women were given much higher roles in society than they ever were, even today. During this age, women were thought to be closer to the realm of the spirits, the Summerland, than men were because they were able to give birth to children.


Religions That, Only Now, Exist
The thought that the people persecuted during the Burning Times worshiped Satan, a Christian entity, or even Wiccan gods and goddesses is a falsehood. Though it is sometime hard for many people to understand, Wicca did not exist, nor did it ever. Wicca refers to the neo-pagan beliefs that are derived from ancient Celtic worship. In the neo-Wiccan religion, all ancient male deities represent the “Horned God” and all ancient female goddesses symbolize the “Mother Goddess.” To even suggest that the people persecuted peoples were Wiccan is a slanted remark, and so is the suggestion that they worshiped Satan.

Christianity is the only religion, in the whole world, that recognizes and even gives name to the being or entity known as Satan. Even today, religious cults that claim to worship Satan, in reality, revere the ancient Egyptian god Set. Though it may seem like Christian-bashing, Christianity is the only religion that gives credit to Satan. Technically, a person who “worships Satan,” is a Christian.


Beliefs That Transcended Time
Christian beliefs and Pagan beliefs differ in numerous ways. Christianity came to being, and stayed, in a mere hundred years, even less. The ancient Pagan religions evolved over thousands of years. From ancient shamanic ancestor worship to the worship of the two deities, the neo-Pagan religion has evolved for centuries and thousands of years to what it is today, a nature religion centering around the worship of the Mother Goddess and Horned God.

A small fact, that I would like to point out now, to avoid confusion is why the Horned God is called the Horned God. He is called the Horned God to symbolize his connection with animals, mainly the stag and those creatures that possess horns. It is, in no way, religiously connected with the horns of Satan, or the Goat of Mendes. Often, it is, wrongly, associated with those horns, but it wholly remains a symbol of nature and a connection to it.


The Victims
The most common victims of the accusations of witchcraft were native healers, midwives, people against whom neighbors held a grudge, single women who owned land, and totally innocent individuals who were accused by other individuals under extreme torture.

The story of the Salem Witch Trials tells of Tituba, a Native American healer said to bewitch village girls and cause them to have fits in which it felt to them as though they were being stabbed with needles. Quickly after the husband of a wealthy woman died, she was accused of witchcraft, often even accused of the murder of her husband. This was clearly a ploy to steal the wealth of women fortunate enough to be wealthy, unfortunate enough to lose their dearly beloveds.

Merely owning a cat was enough to get you accused of witchcraft. Cats were thought to be given to witches by the devil to be their secret messengers.

The witchcraft accusations were not delved into deeply by the local courts until men and women who were once thought to be very religious Christians were accused, which was done only because of grudges held against them; even then, they were quickly accused, tortured, and executed by the Inquisition.


The Inquisition
The Inquisition was a group of people chosen by the Christian religious leaders to ferret out what they believed were “heretics.” The ferreting out of heretics quickly led to the persecution of women, whom they feared. One of the most famous and terrible Inquisitors was Torquemada. Often marked by his reference to the “Christian Dream,” what he believed was a perfect world, without witches.


Torture Too Terrible
The torture employed by the Christian soldiers and priests, Inquisitors, and court members was so terrible that it could only come from the deep depths of a human mind. The way the torturers operated was quite simple. They already knew the truth, they must only simply get you to admit to it. Until you admitted to what they believed was the truth, which very rarely happened, you were induced to excessive amounts and levels of pain. You never knew what they believed was the truth, your only hope was to guess and face the consequences if you were wrong.

Few of the victims accused of witchcraft were ever spared some type of torture. Joan of Arc is remembered as a Christian martyr who died because of English beliefs that she led France to victory over them through witchcraft and idol worship. Five hundred years after she was burnt at the stake, Joan d’Arc was canonized by the Christian Church as a saint. Today, she still lives on in the memory of the French people who live under French rule because of her victories. She is still the official saint of France.

However, the millions of people subjected to torture were faced with horrifying consequences. Flesh was ripped clean off the bones and finger nails were torn from the living flesh while nails were driven into the bare fingers. Bones were torn from the sockets by the rack and woven into the wheel were they were spun until they vomited blood and died.


Death Was Never Quick
Death was never quick for the accused victims. They were tortured for days and imprisoned for months. Sometimes, the bones were torn from the sockets in so many places that the accused could no longer sit in a chair, but was left to shake and squirm in wretched agony on the cold stone floors of the prison cells they were confined to when they refused to admit to the truth the Inquisitors believed.


Begging For Death
After victims were tortured for days, then imprisoned for days, they were often begging for death. However, they were only spat upon and laughed at by the guards appointed to be near their cells, to be sure they did not “contact the devil.” Still, death was slow for the poor victims of accusations of witchcraft.

Often, while being tortured, they would shout the names of friends and family members for help. Now, it is believed this was because their sanity was broken, but Inquisitors believed it was them giving the names of fellow witches. These poor village people were then collected by the Inquisition and forced to the same tortures. In the end, only an endless chain of horrendous torture and death was the result.

When the victim was finally decided to be ready for execution, they were barely alive. Victims were considered lucky if they were strangled before being burnt at the flames of stakes. The “unlucky” victims were died to stakes, and still living and breathing, screamed in agony as they could smell their own flesh being burnt from the bones as sinew and marrow flowed freely from the gaping wounds and holes in the skin and bone.

Hundreds of thousands of victims died during torture; they may be the lucky ones, for they did not face the smell of their own flesh being charred. Some number of countless innocents was lost during the Burning Times. This amount will never be known exactly, and maybe it never should be. From forty thousand to nine million innocent men and women, children and babies, were put to torture and executed during the Burning Times. We can never change the fate and pain they were subjected to, but with the knowledge of the past, we can influence the future and hope to prevent this from ever occurring again.