By Davin Casey
Eerie, green,
The mist has swallowed you.
The scars blossom. You look too ill.
My empire succumbs to pandemic.
A vision of the clouds to come,
The seer laid out the battle.
Grey storms to the West,
Red flames to the east,
Your dark eclipse encompassed all.
I cried out in the night,
Awakened from my dreams.
I thought I heard your footsteps
Outside the stony gate.
That chilling, stony gate
Withstood the consumption of many an army.
Why am I so paranoid?
From within, the blade has struck.
Your illness was beyond physical.
That tumor blotted out all reason,
I should have cut it out when I had the chance.
It blistered and burst, bringing forth these plagues.
The rats and gnats were first to come,
Then meteors crushed, and lightning crashed.
Last but not least, my mind was lost.
The setting sun devoured my empire’s ruins,
Burning with your vehemence.
Living and dead were converted
To your perverted, godless religions.
They boil and bubble inside your churches.
And I, their king, was raped by soldiers’ spears.
And you, my queen, smile all too soon.
For all this blood and all these fears
Shall bear the waxing moon.
The victory tastes sweet as you celebrate.
But laughter and gloating and feasting and drinking
Shall end with my return.
I’ll butcher you, my treacherous queen.
Your greasy blood will cleanse these walls
Of all of your impurities.
My fleshless hands will wring the life
From all of your conspiracies.
Our love shall die with your illness,
And I shall claim the victory.
If it's intriguing, then I guess I did my job. 