I hold my head up high
Even though everything around me
Is mostly, waiting to die.
Hope alone sleeps,
While all the King’s men have perished;
Even the Queen weeps
Souls that I’ve taken
Buried so long ago in earthen graves
Have begun to waken.
Twisted, ugly beasts
Brooding malice darkens the lands
The dead and their feasts
Eyes that violated life
Searing past the vagaries and signs
Like a bloody knife.
Rage and thunder
Spiriting past the living and the dead
Tearing all asunder.
This is a mockery of being
One is inclined to scream out loud
And still everyone is fleeing.
The doom walks upright
Sprouting destruction and death
To everything in sight.
The days are grimmer
The nights are losing their lustre
The living grow dimmer.
Few remain alive, I know
Their lonely heartbeats but flutter
Spilt upon the dirty snow.
Is this the end, then?
Alone, amongst the darkness and death
Waiting my time, when?
The heavy, mutilated tread
Is only a few moments behind my space
It’s the voices of the dead.
I run, I run, I run as if forever
Mired in a soupy miasma of dense, ichor;
And here, I thought I was clever
I waken from slumber
Tired, restless aware of the deeds
Performed in number.
This is another day I see
Not the nightmare that I witnessed;
But something I decree.
It was a black dream
Full of misery and despair and woe
Many souls did scream.
Going about my daily things
The mundane gluttony of civilization
Like a puppet with strings.
Wash, shave, clothe myself
Off to work and the drudgery therein
My life, put on its blue shelf.
On the path to work I stop
To stare at this fellow approaching me,
My bags forgot, they drop.
It’s his eyes, you see
They’re staring straight into my soul
Staring deep into me.
He’s the one I saw in my dream
The destructive god of violence and death
I run and I want to scream!