15th Century - The Return

Vlad the impaler possibly inspired this cult poem!

Delicate shivers of wispy familiars crowded, overhanging the patient figures

Snug silence fogged them, clinging to their dusky shrouds

Around them a cathedral of trees loomed accusingly as the mist drifted among the withered circle

Howling

Not of human utterance

But a starless tone from the lips of a face

Not of a human face

But a corpse, a bloodless, drained, white demon

Under that, of a hooded mask

May that pleading chant release the burdens of them

Confessors of immoral deeds



Monotonous words cut the night, bearing a deep edge

Hanging perpetually, flooding uncharted passages of your mind

Then stealing away, to the dead branches twisted overhead like wet rope

As a soft blanket, the song cloaked the black-hearted fiends

So that silence be drowned

So that ears be unnerved

So that fickle traitors be chastised

May he who is shrewd, tamper not