The Maiden

The autumn moon shines full above Foretelling

trials and blackest gloom. Time draws near to

flee in fear Or face the fate of certain doom.

Many heed the oracle; others door and casement

bar Against the force which rises here, Awakened

by the evening star. Incarnate evil stirs to

life, Long in dormant depths of slumber, To rise

in dire sudden wrath And drive the world of man asunder.

In deepest dark of blackest night, The

withering wind of winter moans. The

Dark Lord summons forth the wraiths

Who sleep beneath their crypts of stone.

Drawn from tomb and shallow

grave, The restless dead emerge

in answer. Shadows clad in steel

and sable Kneel before the necromancer.

The Beast demands a sacrifice: A single

maiden, pure and clean. Incubus threatens

to unleash his fury Unless satisfied with

a queen. Onward three leagues the chosen

ones march, Abandoning hope, departing in

haste. Whipping my steed, in sheer madness

I speed: A desperate venture, no time left to waste.

Short of time, with tortured mind, I

march across the crimson field, To

wade through gore and sleep no more,

Wielding lethal sword and shield.

Spectral demons wail and shriek Macabre tales of

death and woe, Among the mountains cold and bleak,

Forever damned to hell below. Scarlet rains in

torrents. Mortal conquers the horde. Carcasses

strewn in the valley, Valiant victor defies the Dark Lord.

At last atop a rocky crag,

I espy the vestal victim there.

The manifestation of evil awaits,

To die or return to its fiery lair

A yard of naked steel unsheathed

Detects its mark and plunges deep.