Tag Archives: war

SCRIPTURES ACCORDING TO SHADOWS: The Assassins’ Creed

 

 

The 10th Mat lecture note consisting of 42 slides given by the Head of Department to the Dove Agents in the year 31 AD. Corey Red and Precise softly jamming “Representing” in the background as the lecture slideshow begins.

 

From street to school

Don’t be rude under my rule

Wisdom lies in my long cane

Feel the pain and reap the gain

If you come hungry and humble

I’ll be so open you won’t grumble

Leave religious and moral biases behind

And I’ll be sure to blow your mind

 

THE MISSION

 

A pair is fair

Partner up don’t fear

Hit the armory

Be skilled in weaponry

Don’t dillydally or sway

You’ll live the assassin’s way

 

Penetrate both industry and street

Smart, efficient and discreet

Mix with civil servants and thugs

Bump fists, shake hands, and give hugs

But don’t live like they do

You’re just passing through

 

Strike with the gospel of peace

Save lives without charging fees

Make tested faith your bulletproof

‘Spiritual’ doesn’t mean ‘without proof’

Stuff up critically on the word

Wield scriptures with logic like a ninja sword

 

This is beyond martial arts

You’ll be fighting the dark arts

Your war in earth’s dangerous parts

Against internal and national corruption starts

But it will take its toll

You can check the poll

 

A pair is fair

The Spirit in you ain’t for fear

He’ll give you intel keeping you updated

When tortured don’t be intimidated

He is only baiting the enemy

And will sure wreck the tyranny

 

Hit the principalities

Enslaving the communities

The thug or homosexual ain’t hostile target

It’s that Lucifer who needs the bullet

And soon as mission’s done

The Spirit handles your extraction

 

The lecture ended to the song “I don’t pack a ‘matic” by S.O. the Kid; and the Dove Agents flew out, easy and unpredictable as the wind, sharp and fierce like fire.

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Tribe-Wars: Spirits vs Mortals -letter from the River of Deathly Surrender

English: Mid tide, looking up river from Sea W...

The Enchanted Writer, who by his discretion once paused the narration of these letters from war he discovered, now continues:
We all had a white piece of cloth attached to our right arms as signs of our belonging to the clan. It was a symbol of our purity and consecration –a form of righteousness-marker. It was also a symbol of pride and dignity for us. I found it hard laying down my food supplies, given that I am a man of divine appetite (and your mother can tell you how profound my appreciation of good cuisine is). Letting go of my charismatic amulet was not that easy too, given my leadership position as a councilmember in the tribe (and you know how indispensable an enchanting tongue is for the politician). Also, I still liked my suavity which earned me the admiration of ladies, despite the fact I am a married man (and you may be familiar with that shameful desire to still feel in the game). I might as well say these now and come clean. Besides, I am not expecting to return. If I do, all well. But, my life is poured out to this war. Son, letting go of this white cloth for a blood-soaked one was unthinkable. We were asked to tie this blood-soaked cloth around our right war-trained muscled arms. Need I say some of us did rather stick with our recognized values and self-righteousness rather than throwing out the last shreds of honour they had.

My deeply rattled fellows who made it through later told me of so many other things they faced at the boarding. The painful things they had to let go. Imagine the pain with which a colleague told me he let go of his carefree attitude which was attached as a tuft of feathers to his head. He was the type to live an aloof life from behind a glass –untouched by all; attached to none. It was easy for this colleague to join the warriors because he had no hooks to life. He was almost immune from pain. Imagine how the sorting went for him. Like I said, the sorting was individualized to each’s weaknesses.
Now, I understand why it is called the River of Deathly Surrender. We did not die; but the things we had to give up made dying seem for a moment a lighter deal!
We waved goodbyes to our comrades as the ship left the port.
Son, I could swear with horror that I saw some of the violent spirits swoon on the warriors who turned away, seeing as the “kind” spirits had left the region with the ship.
Now, we are off in the ship,
Completely as the mercy of these strange beings,
We have to learn to trust.
I was allowed to send this letter to you.
Pray for us, Son. Please, pray for us.

To prevent wearing out the readers, the Enchanted Writer pauses his narration once again.

A Mad Warrior’s Chant

English: ANZAC War Grave Cemetery, Codford St ...

English: A sword fight between U.S. Senators R...

Born a bloody warrior from time;
Nothing ever shivering my spine.
Murder for me is not a crime;
Unholy vengeance is mine.

In battle I am a dancer;
With the sword I beat the drum.
In death I am a drinker;
With blood as my rum.

I leap from space to time,
Stepping on skulls;
My muscles and machete rhyme,
Cutting through guts and galls.

I bash on the foe’s head,
Moving as the breeze.
I watch his blood shed,
Making his heart cease.

I run though a troop
As though unseen;
Laying waste with one scoop
With skills so keen.

Flawless and tireless,
Drugged with my allies’ cheers;
Fearless and merciless,
Drunk on the enemies’ fears.

See the blood flowing like premium wine;
The cluttered bodies like heaped cherries.
See the enemies’ graves of best design;
Swords dyed hot-red like strawberries.

Epilogue:
Rest comes to the lazy!
At dusk we wine and dine,
Drive the night crazy,
And grow a drunken spine.