I've trekked across the deserts 'til there was sand beneath my skin,
And I've swam under the oceans 'til I started growing fins.
I've found myself in perils from which none before could escape.
From frozen caves to scorching skies; from rolling sands to sinking mud.
And, after all my travels, I've decided to go back into the Blood.
I have scaled so many mountains, my hands began to take their shape.
I've fallen victim to the dangers of all natures of landscape.
But through it all there was not a single war I couldn't win.
You see, I was born of far worse; birthed from a visceral flood,
And, after all my travels, I've decided to go back into the Blood.
A product of the darkness, I am proud to wear my sin,
Like a badge to prove my source to every place I've been.
And, though I am immortal, I'll wear my cape upon the cape,
When the End of Times arrives to carry all into the Scud.
But on this day my travels wish me to go back into the Blood.
I was inspired by the late & great Robert Frost's style of feeding the following stanza's starting rhyme in the prior's body. Utilizing this rhyming "bridge", I decided to focus on trying to convey a brief-yet-eternal story that takes my love of vampire lore into account with classic, Odyssey-style grandeur (somehow a Nordic-like concept with "The Scud" came into being--I might play more with that idea in a future piece). In either case, here's a hodgepodge of nomadic, vampire-driven, Frost-inspired gnarliness.