It was a cold October evening Days of rain have yet to stop A towering monolith of ivory The man stood atop Valour and honour have left the land What remains tugged at his heartstrings With all virtue and common sense Ceased all songs Minerva sings Tarred, feathered, scorned, ostracized From all civilisation Evil is as evil does And so was his intention The ghosts of present, future and past Run a marathon with human life With his dreary company Left no choice but to venture outside Sight blurs through a crimson hue Visions writhe, only one thing left to do As they haunt Splatter grey and black Through time and all things betwixt The great bog awaits A wizard's hut To banish and silence the spirits In the midst of the darkness Beyond fauna and cobblestone Man's oldest dream Quiet epitome on an oaken throne Plunged into despair Longing for retribution His mind courts atrocities One does not dare to mention Love truly is a peculiar thing One time it saves, then taints all immaculacies within As its funeral is held on a sombre, rainy day No birds will come, not even vultures seeking prey The hand that feeds was gnawed to the bone Society has lost its worth, he roams alone The art of loss can be wisdom or a mistake And when thought righteous, all can turn towards hate Yet the leaves fall He returned from the shack Eyes as red as some scarlet bud Now it's time to pay the price For the potion has done its part Smothered thoughts align To the greater good, his mind surrenders The flame of lust is no more Cause what time ignites will burn to a cinder Mucus from the mouth Blood drips from his hands As he finally found his peace He did as the spirits command Loud gusts, glowing shadows Back towards the sun, slouching to the moor Surge of clarity through skin and marrow Indeed, when it rains it pours Yet the leaves fall Silent and prudently cloaked Death drags him to his abode Who lives by the sword Shall likewise die A hero's deed could not be harder to see Ghost shall tempt Bring history's end And alter the legacy one leaves In the midst of the darkness Fever can singe both wool and stone Endless it seems One can only reap what was sown The truth can be cruel Silence unnerving The mirrors lie shattered here The glass is lacerating And the leaves fall A brisk wind whistles a mellow tune Sings of all that the night has eschewed Soon the wailing lulls the spawns of spring Crippling deviants, murdering all evil that dwelt within Everything