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.

Heed this poem of darkest days
Hide yourself when Nightmare plays
When you know, those shadows wait
Time runs out, and it is too late

Tears of fire are burning your cheeks
Forbidden secrets that grimly seeks
Draining your life, leaving you dry
Where there is no sound to cry

When blackened terror comes knocking your door
Leaving you empty, and pleading for more
But this emptiness surrounds you
This desperation confounds you

The icy touch of fear in your head
You listen to voices of lingering dead
Haunting you now, in so many ways
Heed this poem of darkest days