+--+
One,
in the void of remorse,
through burnt red eyes, glaring,
reflections of stained glass,
in flames of ancient loathe.
He stands,
in the grand euphony,
of cries of suffering
and decayed faith.
Grinning,
his odious vow,
the passionate flame
of retribution,
in his fathers name’s.
Singing,
his grave word,
the honed sword.
Sweeping like plague,
throughout the countryside.
Reigning.
athwart mountains,
forest and seas.
Devoid of mercy,
to praying knees.
Spilling the essence of the gods,
all sight of which they see,
and deceit of which they bleed.
I am he.
+--+
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