Shroud of sunsets
blankets the eye
Tombs of tiredness
Dwelve inside
From all the efforts
Lighting the path
That no one dares
To even sneak a peek

"I don't care"
Said the commoner
For I have faith
And hope to follow
As these combined
Can mould the world
From a shattered piece
To something that lingers

Sweat sips
From the knuckles of the fighter
As he respirates for glory
Surely, a mountain of burden
Is carried on his collapsing shoulder
The face of his is pale
Fear of the future
Nevertheless, he is resilient

Days come and go
Seasons change
Friends made and forgotten
Age gained

Today, I stand to you
To tell you a tale
Of the man of will
To never be extinguish
For he has achieved
For what he had begone for
A dream of his
That no one seems to believe

The ancient gods have awaken,
They thirst for a drink of unimaginable power of wisdom...
Joy...
Terror...
Suffering...
IMMORTALITY...
Two chalices sit beside my throne.

On of pure gold from mighty mines.
Its called The wealth of gods
embeded rubys and emeralds...
broken colorful light bounces from the chalice and fills half of the room,
Slow glimmering blood drops of gods fall into it.
Everytime a drop hits the surface,
A blinding light strikes my eyes,         it releases a powerful magic

And people of pure heart gather around and dwelve on its power and wisdom,
yet dare not touch it.

One made of the darkest obsidian,
It's name lost long ago.
Infused with purest kind of horrors
Hearts of the giant crows bleed in it,
The darkness grows stronger and never seizes to have a closure.

Around the dark all foul creatures gather,
Their houls would not stop,
They terrify the living,
No iternal rest for them.

In the middle I rest,
I will never get possesed.
I wont sleep as the gods fancy their drink.
And i must bring it to them as my punishment from gods themselves, because i serve the Dark Lord.
I enjoy their divinity...
Their wisdom...
And power...

Around my neck a heavy chain dangles,
On it's very tip a marble key,
It's my everything.
The key of destiny.
My dry boney fingers try to clasp it,
But its too far,
Destiny of the souls,
They are piling on me,
I cant shake them.
They are unstoppable.


Black wings on my back,
They feel like stone cold...
hard and heavy,
One swing and this doom is perished,
But i can not move them.
They are embeded onto my throne,
They will swing one more time.

My knuckless are bronze,
My feet goldish feathers,
My chest of platinum,
My blade from pure iron,
Thirsty for some red, red blood.

You can not defeat me.
Though I'm still weak,
Servants of god are powerful.

Once i fought for good,
I was a blood thirsty warrior,
A thing of myths and legends.

I had an old relic of power,
It kept me on the side of gods,
Yet evil always wins.
It took over me like a black cloud.
My soul darkened with every swing i took.
The mirror of fate was broken.
Now I am immortal and a heavy burden lies on my shoulders.

Evil always wins.