Ver Lauros Vu Lauros
The wind had howled fierce across the land.
And the desert roared with a scorching hand,
As if old Thor had struck the ground,
Though Earth was dust, long lost, long drowned.
The human swung his scythe once more,
With savage strength, he showed blood and war,
He smote the god with teeth-grit breath,
A man reduced to nothing yet,
Still finding his way in dealing death.
Dragged from hell and back once more,
He bore the scars; he bore the sores,
He was a Lord,
A Lord no more, a man laid bare,
Now covered in gore
There he was on death's door.
But for her sake, he not yet dare.
Even if it came to the expense of his swear,
He lost his gods, he'd lost his mend,
But this would not become his end.
For though he was but flesh and bone,
He struck as if the world alone
Had bent and bowed beneath his hand
A lesser beast, yet still he stand.
The god, once proud, now broken lay,
His golden form now torn away.
He stared into his shattered shell,
And knew the truth: he'd fallen well.
Is that me? the god implored,
Once a being men adored.
Now a husk, a ruined thing,
A broken, battered, and tarnished king.
Am I so weak? the god did cry,
Was I not made to rule the sky?
If I am flawed, if I am small
Then what, by right, am I at all?
Down he crashed, to dust and stone,
A god defiled, this god alone.
The Corrupted God.
The Defiled God.
The Sullied God.
The Tarnished God.
The Mistake of the World.
Dirtied, marred, and left to rot,
A fate he never once had sought.
By a nameless boy, by his mortal hand,
He was undone, unmanned, all unplanned.
The dagger climbed with quaking might,
It kissed his throat and stole his light.
The hunter stood, bloodied, grim,
No mercy left now inside of him.
He gasped; he fell; he screamed the skies,
With hate that would not bow or die.
No peace, no pardon, with no regret
Only a covenant that would stay unmistakably set.
For he was the Hunter, cold and stark
And his name was Death, his soul now dark.
And whether curse or cruel reward,
One greater still, a hidden lord,
Did hear his cry, and came to aid,
So he could rise to smite his Fate.
Black chains curled 'round his shattered form,
Slithering tight like serpents of scorn,
In their wake, silver and steel take form.
His body now armoured, of sleek and dread,
His sickle burning a bloody red.
He broke the laws that bound all men,
Even the gods made a shudder then.
He tore his destiny apart
And stitched revenge into his heart.
The Hunter rose, and the earth did quake,
The stars did tremble in his new wake.
But when he reached his village low,
He found no hearth, no flame, no glow.
Only ruins, only bones,
Only ash and shattered stones.
And she was gone, his love, his light
The only thing which had gave him sight,
Lost in the endless night.
He searched the valleys, searched the skies,
With broken breath and burning eyes,
Until he found her, cold and dead,
Her body had been torn, her spirit long fled.
Her head displayed with mocking pride,
While drunken crowds laughed at her side.
The only soul that made him whole,
Was now a ghost, a hollow toll,
A pain so vast no man did care,
Except her, the hunter's only ail,
The chains now broken, the last nail gone,
The man now dead, Death took stead.
He would not forgive.
He would not forget.
He was her Hunter.
And his name was Death.
Mordu ehyl narvu Furous
warvyr isyr eet valkryr
Raguk Isyr Danam
Mordu eet Vortyr