Once upon a time,
when the world was cold
dim souls forever locked away,
their stories went untold.
And I, the weary wanderer,
bound beneath a cloak and shawl,
beset upon the others
to find and kill them all.
I lost my veil of sanity;
I consumed their flesh.
I followed bastard teachings
instead of practicing with the blessed.
In my exuberant wonder,
bloodlust replaced my mind.
A curse, they cried - but nay, said I!
and entombed them with the rest .
The blood ran frozen in the streets,
the town’s all wept my name.
I broke them, bled them, raped them, fled from them
before a spark of shame.
But now it seems I’m weary,
my hair is turning white.
One last small treat! This encroaching fleet
will calm this winter’s bite.
They came with all their fires,
some green and some in blue.
They ate my flesh and burnt the rest
(it seems my mortality passed the test)
and now I’m within few.
I twisted up inside my foes
corrupting all their fears,
and when their corpses turn to dust
(is all the world just built of rust?)
I’m ever drawing near.
