By: Jiraishin Posted on: August 19, 2012
Before the battle-axe could cleave
Suffering's more subtle blades
Brought the heathens to their knees
Tendons sliced and cripples made
Of all the Twin Lords' enemies
Yet the killing stroke was stayed--
No mercy shown, but no death dealt
The followers of Suffering
Left Good's proud warriors where they knelt.
Locusts stripped the fields and flesh
Sparing nothing, laying bare
Bone and dust and ivory
And the truth that is despair.
The kneeling men were left alive
To them one shred of hope remained:
That coming death might bring respite
From ceaseless grief and endless pain
Thus almost welcome was the sight
Of Mhaldor's forces as they came
Yet still the dead found no relief--
Their bodies, hearts, their very souls
In cruel and conscious mockery
Were claimed by Evil, unopposed.
Locusts stripped the fields and flesh
Sparing nothing, laying bare
Bone and dust and ivory
And the truth that is despair.
Infernals and Apostates ate
The hearts, and felt their spirits rise
Heathen souls to spears were shaped
Now stronger, truer, than in life.
Upon the field an Adik raised
And strengthened for his Lord a shrine--
Each twisted body offered there
In helpless agony had died
As he knew well. In silent prayer
He drew a thinly bladed knife.
Locusts stripped the fields and flesh
Sparing nothing, laying bare
Bone and dust and ivory
And the truth that is despair.