The Evolution of a Slyman

Archive for July 7, 2021

Aftermath (a short poem)

In this place only earth, trees, and stars;
Beyond the hills things are more bizarre;
The Aethyr whispers in the silent night;
The Ancient Ones will come when the stars are right;
For it is THEM moving through all things;
Always there pulling on our strings;
Those they chose did more than survive;
A brave new world in which they thrive;
Warrior wizards of the killing kind;
Song-like prayer chants from the culling times;
Faces stained of war-paint mixed from mud, blood, and soot;
All who cross this warband are trampled underfoot;
From a distance the erie shadows cast;
Carcasses of monolithic dwellings of the past;
Haunting reminders of when we’d lost our way;
Such vile and dastardly creatures, that which we had became;
Still there were those among Us that waited for the day;
When the season was just right so they could play the sinister game;
A thousand moons have passed since;
Deep into the Aeon of the Crown Prince.