My Great Epic Poem on the Serbian Samaal: the Saga of Ivan Samaalovic

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
 
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Tf is up with you and Serbians?

I came to the conclusion after much big brain time that Y18629 was a Serb. His name was Ivan Samaalovic.

These are all facts. This poem is a result of unshrouding my newfound heritage and heartfelt appreciation for my ancestor.

Please stop hating. Just appreciate it like I do.
 

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