Last Pagan Uprising

A cycle of poems «Whispers of Mari El»

Beneath the ancient oaks, where the shadows breathe, 
Whispers of the past call to those who believe. 
With fire in our hearts and the earth at our feet, 
We gather as one, where the wild spirits meet. 

Raise your voice to the heavens, let the thunder roll, 
In the last pagan uprising, we reclaim our soul. 
With the strength of our ancestors, we’ll stand side by side, 
In the echoes of the ages, let our spirits collide. 

Through valleys of sorrow, where the lost dreams lie, 
We’ll weave our stories into the midnight sky. 
With the howl of the wolves and the songs of the trees, 
We’ll summon the magic carried on the breeze. 
 
Raise your voice to the heavens, let the thunder roll, 
In the last pagan uprising, we reclaim our soul. 
With the strength of our ancestors, we’ll stand side by side, 
In the echoes of the ages, let our spirits collide. 

The chains of oppression can’t bind what is free, 
For the blood of our forebears flows strong in you and me. 
With the runes as our guide and the stars as our map, 
We’ll forge a new destiny from this ancient trap. 

Raise your voice to the heavens, let the thunder roll, 
In the last pagan uprising, we reclaim our soul. 
With the strength of our ancestors, we’ll stand side by side, 
In the echoes of the ages, let our spirits collide. 

So gather ‘round the fire, let the stories ignite, 
In this last pagan uprising, we’ll rise through the night. 
With our hearts intertwined and our spirits set free, 
We’ll honor the old ways for all eternity.