This a dedicated epic poem to our abo Ivan Samaalovic. Only true Samaales and black Serbs will understand with full appreciation this work.
~ Asrafael
[увод]
This is the telling of a peerless and timeless parabale
Foretold by all the greatest mages and of the very best of the oracles
Of an argent defender, who stood awatch unfatigued and unwearable
A horrible fate awaited those who crossed him, the most cursed and terrible
The men of Kosovo rode them down, like birds they hunted from their great mounts
Shooting them down as they're circling, their dead a number so high you cant count
With a sudden charge and bewildering roar, they were broken and fled in a great rout
We left a littered field, their bodies inert and with no sound
A paradox of hyperbole
The story of high blooded men and gallant nobles
Dead craven and buried warriors
A clear contrast for those sober!
All of their people were <hurdled> crying out from their locked <wardrobes>
As Ivan sacked and annihalated their <cities>, and broke them till they gave up on all <hope>
He was the father of the dark Serbs that they were birthed from his black wife, a daughter of her mother Asho
And his seed spread far and wide, and became the clans of Hawiye, Zubeyr Awal, and Darod
We chase unrelenting, our steeds a hail of fury into the darkest midnight
Ivan merely grimaces from his wounds, and seeths with a monstrous Slavic might
Utterly consumed by the sight of blood - oh the beauty of Samaales pride!
These streets are our birthright, lined with an enemy rammed up on our sharp pikes
Bang bang bang bang [blank]
Riding out for the mains [gang]
Kosovo, a sacral hallowed ground
They violated its holiness - without mercy, we cut them down
Like the dream of the sages,
he holds it down for the ages
The sons of Samaales are moving all of this century
All of these animals breaking down angry
The glint of Ivans sword strikes the holy fear of God into the enemy
An army of knights under the stars, a glistening steel wall of our cavalry
The uncounted deeds of mens miraculous and confounding feats of their bravery
Ours was an unstoppable charge, and we chased them off just as they were wavering
It was a battle they were convinced they would win, they clearly had not thought of it carefully
Aint no stop nor going back
We going fast ahead on this path
Hoe niggas gonna try, but we dead set on this track
They were sent an army of the living, Ivan sent back an of army of the dead
Churned inside out - they were rotting animals who are what they were destined to have met
The unbroken solidarity of Ivans clansmen wiped out all of their sets
An army covered in the slaughtered blood, they left the battle covered and soaked wet
Opps moving in like the Albans, got their necks slit with a tackle
Our thundering salvos sounding off in the mountians
Now your men are all shaken and are so terribly rattled
Ivan burned down all of their villages and herded away all of their cattle
They came with such hubris, as if they had a chance in this battle
Ivan and the Serbians shocked them in a vicious sudden attack
The men pressed forth, fanning ahead in tribal packs
No hiding for the enemy, we fell on site with a whack
Their ruined cities, throughly destroyed and so devestatingly sacked
They were driving forward in the hundreds, standing our last like Dragutin.
It was 1 for a million and they faced them in heroic dueling
We've had our first contact and their already sueing
Unmet power is the sole domain of his ruling
Ivan, grandson of Samaale - he was the first of the great chiefs
No land lost, not an inch - this bloodied land is our fief.
Rightful of god, sung in the mass chants of the faithful and the priests
He on the hunt out in the wild like a hungered, awoken, and bloodthirsty beast
Long lineaged and high blood - he is the roaring lion of Pirot
Nothing more sure than his worth, far more than their magical tarots
Nothing stand between us as the accursed victors, and they've prepared to already run
Bringing forth peace offerings and their own wives as offered harlots
Your lords, bent knee
Hands raised, <trembling>, held meek<ly>
Your tarred disgraced banners burned - a total and crushing defeat
You are now confronting the nightmare that you'd never wish you would meet.
That they even thought they were capable of anything beyond getting beat
You were still departing, as your girls flocked to our bloodied arms
The cost of a just cause in our throughly domineering clash of fighting arms
Its quite abit too late for you to have raised and sounded the alarms
For there is nothing to fight for, the world you once loved is now forever gone
It's your country and females that we are holding so freely
Ivan they envision as the ideal man, oh do they love him so dearly
It's your left behind womenfolk who look into our eyes ever so dreamly
Those same very eyes you had looked into so terrified and so fearly
Imagine a young Ivan, as his perched headrest on your ladies bosom
You hear the pleasured screams of your women, he f*ck em' all and he toss 'em
All of your treasures and kingdoms, to our militaristic might they have fallen
Ivan's double conquest of all of your lands and of your womens possums
Dayuths wish and they hurt
They cant ever be, Ivan's turnt
He's an eternal fire of shining flame, while they out here getting burnt
Dont he catch you be lacking
In the dark of night of he come packing
You wish it never happened, but you'd just walked right into a racket
Ivan's out for your head, and he'll fell it off with a hacking
They thought we would walk it off, as if weren't bent on attacking
The brotherhood is cool in the face of a most certian death
The unbroken bonds of patriachy, they killed you all off like pests
It's just a wait before they usurp you of all you ever loved and held best
The scourge of all men, they were sent out as a divine test
His steed guul-sade, a horse whose equal is no wealth
True men, our strength makes them doubt any aota of themself
They march sychronized as one - and go as far deep as the tenth
We've taken what we've wanted, we'd never have asked of it to be lent
Our conquests will be told far and wide, as far as the distant British shorelines of Kent
We are divine retribution, for we are not god-sent?
Ivan and his brothers are unceasing, they put all into that work
They may not see them but none is seen coming back alive from their terfs
A clan and a nasab, without it you live with no worth
Hellfire or their defeat, it's the cause of much their misery and hurt
It's a ride till we furloughed, we gonna fight till we murked them
A holy vengeance for our fathers, a white shock in their eyes, and they go mum
Ivan and his men are forged of cold bir, it's all cool and they feel numb
It's the epicenter of an earthquake, but it started off as a low humm
The benighted of destiny, the unfurled flag of unchallenged lordship
There's no one lower than him that gon ever be worthy of worship
He takes the entire Mediterranean at the sterns and bows of his warships
Confident they came rushing, and we met them with cold iron and bloodied sword tips
And with a swift glance we knocked them out with bejeweled hilts
Unchalleged he went, unbowed - unbent
Their lay you army, fully routed and chased, a deserted city of tents
Its wheverever he goes, his brothers all followed and went
Long wild hair, a beknighting halo blown by the frigid wind - unkempt
You dared come in opposition, its only took one run and your bent
When we warned of terminating your meek existence, we said what we meant
Their outline on the hill, the nightmarish horizon of a looming threat
The lions of Samaale, we are the men you regret to have ever confronted and met
The slayed bodies of the Turks, the cries as their women terribly weep
The Samaal is worth 100, the blood-money runs steep
Blessings of god to the Serbs, he was born raised above the entirety of the elite
Amidst Attila and Hengest, his names sung in the tribal campfires of the Geats
The most perfected in his image, a blinding reflection on a mirror
Above all he rises, the chosen, the unfastened young destinies terror
A lone messenger arrives, a striken fear in heart of the bearer
Bearing the fruits of unhoped calamity and of such misjudged calamitous error
Ivan lacks all your emotion, he settles it all with no commotion
We have no deluded notions in total domination, of this we are certian
An act well done for your part, now he'll be pulling the curtains
None are kept alive if only we'll be perched over as stolid guardsmen and wardens
Dont you ever provoke, he got your enitre neck in the ropes
You dont have the strength to stand, all the wiser you prevent all of your woes
Fleeing on the heels of imminent annihlation, you all fled on your dirtied toes
If you know what it is, if you know then you know.
The Serbs had the Turks in retreat, fleeing on the edge of their onslaught
Towering and tragic, he faced them all down like a frightening dreadnaught
We moved in on a pincer, and in the dead middle were they all caught
War is a learned art, which on our side we were all taught
The shrill and neighs of our horses
The thundering hail of our forces
A deafening wail of their voices
The living corpses, drowning in the unforgiving misery of their choices
A delirious mass, they called out in frightened shrieks and unintelligible noises
Not heard or seen, you entire existence has been so totally voided
They fall below our hooves, below the gaze of the hunters eyes
Their fear and refuse burying them both dead and alive
An encirclement of hooves - wounded and starry eyed, resigned to their imminent departure
With thristing hunger they close in, with masochistic glee they bide their sacrificial altar
It's a human sacrifice to Ivan Samaalovic, our illustrious, fabled, and conquering great father
~ Asrafael
[увод]
This is the telling of a peerless and timeless parabale
Foretold by all the greatest mages and of the very best of the oracles
Of an argent defender, who stood awatch unfatigued and unwearable
A horrible fate awaited those who crossed him, the most cursed and terrible
The men of Kosovo rode them down, like birds they hunted from their great mounts
Shooting them down as they're circling, their dead a number so high you cant count
With a sudden charge and bewildering roar, they were broken and fled in a great rout
We left a littered field, their bodies inert and with no sound
A paradox of hyperbole
The story of high blooded men and gallant nobles
Dead craven and buried warriors
A clear contrast for those sober!
All of their people were <hurdled> crying out from their locked <wardrobes>
As Ivan sacked and annihalated their <cities>, and broke them till they gave up on all <hope>
He was the father of the dark Serbs that they were birthed from his black wife, a daughter of her mother Asho
And his seed spread far and wide, and became the clans of Hawiye, Zubeyr Awal, and Darod
We chase unrelenting, our steeds a hail of fury into the darkest midnight
Ivan merely grimaces from his wounds, and seeths with a monstrous Slavic might
Utterly consumed by the sight of blood - oh the beauty of Samaales pride!
These streets are our birthright, lined with an enemy rammed up on our sharp pikes
Bang bang bang bang [blank]
Riding out for the mains [gang]
Kosovo, a sacral hallowed ground
They violated its holiness - without mercy, we cut them down
Like the dream of the sages,
he holds it down for the ages
The sons of Samaales are moving all of this century
All of these animals breaking down angry
The glint of Ivans sword strikes the holy fear of God into the enemy
An army of knights under the stars, a glistening steel wall of our cavalry
The uncounted deeds of mens miraculous and confounding feats of their bravery
Ours was an unstoppable charge, and we chased them off just as they were wavering
It was a battle they were convinced they would win, they clearly had not thought of it carefully
Aint no stop nor going back
We going fast ahead on this path
Hoe niggas gonna try, but we dead set on this track
They were sent an army of the living, Ivan sent back an of army of the dead
Churned inside out - they were rotting animals who are what they were destined to have met
The unbroken solidarity of Ivans clansmen wiped out all of their sets
An army covered in the slaughtered blood, they left the battle covered and soaked wet
Opps moving in like the Albans, got their necks slit with a tackle
Our thundering salvos sounding off in the mountians
Now your men are all shaken and are so terribly rattled
Ivan burned down all of their villages and herded away all of their cattle
They came with such hubris, as if they had a chance in this battle
Ivan and the Serbians shocked them in a vicious sudden attack
The men pressed forth, fanning ahead in tribal packs
No hiding for the enemy, we fell on site with a whack
Their ruined cities, throughly destroyed and so devestatingly sacked
They were driving forward in the hundreds, standing our last like Dragutin.
It was 1 for a million and they faced them in heroic dueling
We've had our first contact and their already sueing
Unmet power is the sole domain of his ruling
Ivan, grandson of Samaale - he was the first of the great chiefs
No land lost, not an inch - this bloodied land is our fief.
Rightful of god, sung in the mass chants of the faithful and the priests
He on the hunt out in the wild like a hungered, awoken, and bloodthirsty beast
Long lineaged and high blood - he is the roaring lion of Pirot
Nothing more sure than his worth, far more than their magical tarots
Nothing stand between us as the accursed victors, and they've prepared to already run
Bringing forth peace offerings and their own wives as offered harlots
Your lords, bent knee
Hands raised, <trembling>, held meek<ly>
Your tarred disgraced banners burned - a total and crushing defeat
You are now confronting the nightmare that you'd never wish you would meet.
That they even thought they were capable of anything beyond getting beat
You were still departing, as your girls flocked to our bloodied arms
The cost of a just cause in our throughly domineering clash of fighting arms
Its quite abit too late for you to have raised and sounded the alarms
For there is nothing to fight for, the world you once loved is now forever gone
It's your country and females that we are holding so freely
Ivan they envision as the ideal man, oh do they love him so dearly
It's your left behind womenfolk who look into our eyes ever so dreamly
Those same very eyes you had looked into so terrified and so fearly
Imagine a young Ivan, as his perched headrest on your ladies bosom
You hear the pleasured screams of your women, he f*ck em' all and he toss 'em
All of your treasures and kingdoms, to our militaristic might they have fallen
Ivan's double conquest of all of your lands and of your womens possums
Dayuths wish and they hurt
They cant ever be, Ivan's turnt
He's an eternal fire of shining flame, while they out here getting burnt
Dont he catch you be lacking
In the dark of night of he come packing
You wish it never happened, but you'd just walked right into a racket
Ivan's out for your head, and he'll fell it off with a hacking
They thought we would walk it off, as if weren't bent on attacking
The brotherhood is cool in the face of a most certian death
The unbroken bonds of patriachy, they killed you all off like pests
It's just a wait before they usurp you of all you ever loved and held best
The scourge of all men, they were sent out as a divine test
His steed guul-sade, a horse whose equal is no wealth
True men, our strength makes them doubt any aota of themself
They march sychronized as one - and go as far deep as the tenth
We've taken what we've wanted, we'd never have asked of it to be lent
Our conquests will be told far and wide, as far as the distant British shorelines of Kent
We are divine retribution, for we are not god-sent?
Ivan and his brothers are unceasing, they put all into that work
They may not see them but none is seen coming back alive from their terfs
A clan and a nasab, without it you live with no worth
Hellfire or their defeat, it's the cause of much their misery and hurt
It's a ride till we furloughed, we gonna fight till we murked them
A holy vengeance for our fathers, a white shock in their eyes, and they go mum
Ivan and his men are forged of cold bir, it's all cool and they feel numb
It's the epicenter of an earthquake, but it started off as a low humm
The benighted of destiny, the unfurled flag of unchallenged lordship
There's no one lower than him that gon ever be worthy of worship
He takes the entire Mediterranean at the sterns and bows of his warships
Confident they came rushing, and we met them with cold iron and bloodied sword tips
And with a swift glance we knocked them out with bejeweled hilts
Unchalleged he went, unbowed - unbent
Their lay you army, fully routed and chased, a deserted city of tents
Its wheverever he goes, his brothers all followed and went
Long wild hair, a beknighting halo blown by the frigid wind - unkempt
You dared come in opposition, its only took one run and your bent
When we warned of terminating your meek existence, we said what we meant
Their outline on the hill, the nightmarish horizon of a looming threat
The lions of Samaale, we are the men you regret to have ever confronted and met
The slayed bodies of the Turks, the cries as their women terribly weep
The Samaal is worth 100, the blood-money runs steep
Blessings of god to the Serbs, he was born raised above the entirety of the elite
Amidst Attila and Hengest, his names sung in the tribal campfires of the Geats
The most perfected in his image, a blinding reflection on a mirror
Above all he rises, the chosen, the unfastened young destinies terror
A lone messenger arrives, a striken fear in heart of the bearer
Bearing the fruits of unhoped calamity and of such misjudged calamitous error
Ivan lacks all your emotion, he settles it all with no commotion
We have no deluded notions in total domination, of this we are certian
An act well done for your part, now he'll be pulling the curtains
None are kept alive if only we'll be perched over as stolid guardsmen and wardens
Dont you ever provoke, he got your enitre neck in the ropes
You dont have the strength to stand, all the wiser you prevent all of your woes
Fleeing on the heels of imminent annihlation, you all fled on your dirtied toes
If you know what it is, if you know then you know.
The Serbs had the Turks in retreat, fleeing on the edge of their onslaught
Towering and tragic, he faced them all down like a frightening dreadnaught
We moved in on a pincer, and in the dead middle were they all caught
War is a learned art, which on our side we were all taught
The shrill and neighs of our horses
The thundering hail of our forces
A deafening wail of their voices
The living corpses, drowning in the unforgiving misery of their choices
A delirious mass, they called out in frightened shrieks and unintelligible noises
Not heard or seen, you entire existence has been so totally voided
They fall below our hooves, below the gaze of the hunters eyes
Their fear and refuse burying them both dead and alive
An encirclement of hooves - wounded and starry eyed, resigned to their imminent departure
With thristing hunger they close in, with masochistic glee they bide their sacrificial altar
It's a human sacrifice to Ivan Samaalovic, our illustrious, fabled, and conquering great father
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