(I wrote this in response to an article at AlternativeRight. The author promotes a retreat from contemporary society; abandoning white women to neo-feminism. I think Christian men should die fighting for the archtypical woman and wield her bravely, as God intended. Read the article here: http://www.alternativeright.com/main/the-magazine/the-case-for-open-borders/#dsq-comments )
In a sultry garden divine bellows work
bringing gasps of pain from human clay.
Knowing not his anguish produces
The wondrous gown of fairest day.
The Craftsman creates from soil and rib,
A thing of beauty and of war.
Heaving from our father’s chest
A white-hot blade; a gleaming sword!
“To be wielded my son, in times of evil,
Never forsaken when times are good,
Focus always your thoughts upon her,
And use her true as brave men should.”
Instruction for how to wield her rightly
Comes to the man from angelic divines.
Tempered by the God of beauty
This fair sword overwhelms the eyes.
Her blade was sharper than a rugged stone
Into it she was thrust by the creators hand
Pierced through the heart of the rock,
Forever chastened there to stand.
Beauty of Emily
Never has a sword been forged
That matches Emily’s renown.
A glance at her fills men with passion
Their hearts run over; their lusts abound!
Weakness forgotten; old
They see glory in her blade.
Who can wield this heart-strong weapon
That the God of war has wisely made?
Her beauty slashes at man’s constitution
He who holds her conquers all.
As long as the sword arm is steady
Emily’s hero will never fall.
Holding her is holding terror
Yet she remains in rock held tight.
She fills the eyes with brash compassion
And cares not for a weak man’s plight.
To Capture Emily
It is said that a man of royal intention
With virtue worn as clothes
Is the only one who can tame her
and pluck her from the captive stone.
But evil men cast their eyes on Emily
And see her pretty blade.
They lust for her adornments
So wicked copies of her were made.
Scythes and daggers with twisted edge,
Serrated blades to rend and kill
These horrible objects mock the blade
That’s trapped in rock and helpless still.
Men laugh at the rock that binds the sword
They hate the Creator’s skill
They despise poor Emily standing,
trapped in the rock and helpless still.
Her image is written upon faux blades
She’s used in combat not as herself
Spoken for by the mouths of monsters
Emily remains a hidden wealth.
Surrounded by hoards of starving savages
Emily remains bound in stone.
Her image raped from the tops of mountains
One brave Christian approaches alone.
He hears the cries of wicked tongues
Feels the sting of their poison blades.
Through the gauntlet the hero trudges
If he dreams of Emily, he must be brave.
Forcing his way through the writhing masses,
He reaches up his hand.
Gently taking Emily’s hilt
He draws her out then makes his stand.
Diving into the evil crowd,
He wields her as an expert bladesman.
Never neglecting the cries of Emily
And letting her always aid him.
Monsters flee before this sight.
None can blame them for acting wisely.
While hidden in the darkest recess
They nurse a hate for her completely.
But if ever an ending can be happy forever
It’s the one between a man and blade.
For while the Christian knight wields Emily
The rapists are stuck with daggers in shade.