The forces of light are defended by the Paladins.
The deathly agenda of the necromantic order enforced by the Death Knights might.
And the will of Hell and its splinter-factions carried out by the relentless Demoniacs.


The bells begin to toll
Ringing in my hollow heart

I rise from the ashes of my role
Of this turmoil I will take a part

I run from the end of days
Run for seasons on end
To find the chasm in which vengeance lie
I am the one who never prays
Who's fed up playing pretend
Rampaging towards the end of your lie

My emotions have eroded my heart's soil
My hatred courses through my veins like burning oil

I forsake all honours' creed
To conscience I pay no heed

Whatever was left of my chivalry is dead
And now I am out for Gods' head

Whispers in the night disturb my sleep
I fall into a darkened gorge ever steep
Hitting the bottom I plunge into a burning river
I awake knowing what end I must deliver

I stand alone, guided by the inhuman wraiths of old
I've come to believe the horrors of which they've told

I've wrought a demonic flame
To hunt a divine game

My soul is my weapon; a sword forged in rage
To bring about darknesses' age

Poetry by Rex Panthera
Read 536 times
Written on 2010-08-23 at 20:29

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Doreen Cavazza
I like this very much. It breathes vengeance and hardened soul. I get a vision of the middle ages when reading this. Nicely done!