A Song of Mhaldor (2004 Bardic)

By: Ulrike Posted on: August 30, 2004

A loose bit of verse that I hear from time to time at the Worm and Grub.

The mountains rise above the west
In mists of swirling red,
And in the darkened streets resound
The whispers of the dead.

I make my home in Mhaldor
Where the western mountains end:
Where a smile is a warning
and a whip the mark of friend.

There's screaming in the Baelgrim spires
And keening on the breeze,
It's music to a sinner
And the saints all love to please.

I make my home in Mhaldor
Among the thieves and spies,
Where there's no fist without its sword
Nor tongue without its lies.

We serve our august masters here
With blood and bone and breath -
The glory that is Evil
And the grandeur that is Death.

I have myself a daemon
And a pretty Mhunnish slave,
I have an iron maiden
Should they ever misbehave.

I care not for the world's words
I care not for the Priests.
My home is on the Devil's Isle
of lycopods and beasts.

And I'll not leave for gold or girl
Or castles in the wood;
I make my home in Mhaldor
And there my life is good.