An Ode in Honor of Heavy Metal

O muses with steel harps that brightly spark

Give my hands skill in noble art

That I may honor the music that howls like dire wolf

And shakes it’s hearers with mighty thunderclap

May my words speak true of this wondrous alchemy

Which some view as divine, while others decry

Those who sing the noble tones

Are often viewed as men of ignoble woe

But I would with gladness would sup

With these descendants of fierce Aries and grim Hades

They sing complaint to the God of Isaac tis true

But the targets they aim their songs grim arrows often strike true

Loathsome swine that claim to have great Jehovah’s blessing

Steal from both vain prince and pitiable pauper

For truly from unholy Mammon they are blessed

Would-be Prophets of Bacchus too also find their nest

And deceive the simple into joining in Bacchus’ orgiastic song

While pretending to be of Jehovah’s holy throng

Those that speak more of death and woe than dread Hades

Them too are targets the singer’s grim arrows assail

Men who can only envisage fiery damnation

Who have long since lost Heaven’s blessing of the Beatific vision

The men of noble fire and holy woe

By work of providence shoot arrows at Jehovah’s deceitful foes

And while many of these men drink of Bacchus venomous vine

Their tones bear the timbre of Jeremiah’s just laments

And of Daniel or John they share in fantastic visions

Muses of thundering fiery art may your bolts of inspiration find their mark

May the prophetic thunders of Aries’ and Hades’ offspring

Voices ring of just lamentations that pierces frivolities’ sickly song

For thus dear fiery eyed Muses I now end my song.


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