Broken skin and tattered shields;
Frozen souls wander a fiery battlefield.
One with human senses notices the pain,
Stops to the side and pushes off the dust and grain.
A warlord who is hurt himself is doing this!
I reach with my hand only to have it torn off my limb.
You are a necrotic soul:
Blissfully decaying, alone and cold.
Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 7:05 PM UTC
Broken skin and tattered shields;
Frozen souls wander a fiery battlefield.
One with human senses notices the pain,
Stops to the side and pushes off the dust and grain.
A warlord who is hurt himself is doing this!
I reach with my hand only to have it torn off my limb.
You are a necrotic soul:
Blissfully decaying, alone and cold.
