Sekte Der Sonnenkrone

Ah - to be young and defiant, to carry the minne of our ancestors, to be a fruitful spirit within the chaos that surrounds us all. We, the avenging youthful souls of nature, shall banish the foul stench of decay which layeth upon those woeful old fools and clear the way for the future. Ha! To live without fear of death; What a beautiful existence! Our vitality and vigor are unmatched. The torch has been passed to us, and we must light the castles, courts, and churches of the imbeciles aflame. You old laughingstocks who hold unto the past shall regret your worship of falsehoods. And yes, we need not cling to your wretched morals and etiquette from the days of yore. Who cares about your sense of justice? We make our way within the world without respect for antiquity or ethics. We worship nothing but our loyalty, which is entrenched in the blood of our ancestors, and like them so many forgotten years ago, we shall shake up the world and bring our vanguard of truth to power. Who dare oppose us? We do not abide by your rules. You may call us vagabonds, thugs, or barbarians, but we do not falter under your taunts. Whether you yield or fight us, our battalions shall show you no mercy!

The wild hunt cometh for your skulls! Heed you skeletal jesters.

We dine in hell

What once was a beautiful green field, filled to the brim with blooming flowers and astonishing flora, has now been reduced to an ashy blood-stained graveyard, where thousands of young men lay dead. To those who hold a contemporary mindset, this scene is one of madness and nightmarish atrocity, but to us who hold the most profound truth of mankind, this scene is a true work of art. Heroism and will manifest unto a brilliant showcase of man's might, where those daring experience what it means to be alive as shells go past them and their lines collapse, charging the enemy in one last hurrah, defying death and all the odds, being a true fanatic of the soul. And when that moment of awe finally comes, and the bullet pierces your heart, you know you have lived and died like man was supposed to.

Off we go to burn those whom the reservoir of death has set free.

Hangman's Due

I found myself staring at the lonely decrepit evergreen tree located atop a hill where it stands amidst a seemingly never-ending storm. Heavy rain pours down on my head from the heavens, each drop feeling like a bullet penetrating my exposed skin as the constant lightning strikes electrify the air and the strong gusts of wind of the maddening storm tear through me. And yet here I stand in awe, wondering what miracle of nature lets this tree stand tall in such a phenomenally intense storm despite its hideous exterior. As I approach the tree, I feel its true nature come to light, ascertaining that I have come to the right place and that my long journey has not gone unrewarded, for I have reached my goal; "This is it," I say to myself, " this is where God was hanged." I do not know the intricacies of how it happened. Perhaps he hanged himself, or maybe he was hanged by vagabonds who defied his holy rule. Whatever it may be, there now only hangs a lonely noose from a branch, swinging alone in the storm. As hatred overtakes my body, I remind myself to let go; I'm here to do my duty and not to reminisce the forgotten tales told before my time. I grab onto the handle of my ax with a firm grip and silently approach the tree; I know what I'm here to do.
I swing my ax into the air, its blade breaking through the wind, and I begin slowly chopping the tree down cut by cut; it begins to fall to its flank. It doesn't take long until in done with it, and the trunk falls down the hill. I laugh and yell, "Begone ye old tree! May the lighting strike ye rotten corpse." In its former place of rest that has been corrupted by the men who defined the last age as one of blight and rot, I shall plant a new tree. One that may grow in glory anew. One that I might one day be hanged in. Here, we begin again.

Oh, hail the glorious dawn free of the storm. May your rays of light embrace your sons with warmth. May the clouds disperse and unveil the morning star!