The Path of the Fiend
We wish to never walk
Along that path forsaken by Gods.
Where men die from evil blades
Where women and children fall to beasts.
That jagged road between two mountains
As if they were jaws waiting to devour.
The path could well be its earthen tongue
Tasting your footsteps, savouring your last ones.
Among this land lie the orcs,
Mindless, muscled and moronic in thought.
With clubs of oak and as heavy as one
They await to crush all for the damned path to
As if they were teeth for the mountainous jaws.
Beyond them lie cursed knights
Who fell to the maddening darkness here.
Their swords are now stained with all kinds of
From the beasts to the humans, from innocent to
The barren walk soon changes
As you traverse ever closer to the lair of the
A stone walkway of aged bricks is next to pass
With the dried blood of past victims as its
The most cursed of knights stand guard here.
All they can see must fall to their dark blades.
More hollow than hallowed are their souls
As they unsheathe swords of a crusted maroon.
Soon the lucky and the destined reach the lair
Of a true tyrant behind the curtains of blood.
With armour and cloak of the colour purple
Like the tainted blood now coursing in dark veins.
They call him the Death Adder,
More fiendish and crueller than any serpent who
Wielding a sword the size of a dead tree
He empties your luck like blood from your body
And soon ends the destinies of all brave forsaken