1. |
Sunsworn Knight
08:46
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He made pilgrimage to these cursed lands
With sword and painted shield in hand
A personal sun he seeks to claim;
The radiance of a heliacal father’s flame.
He would commend his soul to the fire
To perpetuate the age of sunlight
From the cinders of the Kiln, he stokes the pyre
Immolation is the dream of this knight.
He is friend to the wayward phantoms
His sigil of gold, a brilliant bastion
Seeking out the fading lord
Smouldering in a forsaken, ashen core
And so it was that he ventured into the fiery ruins borne of the witch's folly
Afflicted by the curse of hollowing thought.
The blazing depths did teem with demonic foes owing genesis to the false flame
Beneath the helm, humanity continually rots.
The sun-sworn knight pierces through the inferno, impelled by the promise of everlasting radiance
Treading ancient scoria beneath thy feet.
His glare illuminates the forgotten halls; no shadow subsists in the warrior's wake.
Beware the subterranean solar deceit!
Magnificence or madness awaits this knight
The fire linked, or the darkness down below
He fights to preserve the bleary ember’s light
To repel the Abyss unleashed so long ago
A sacrifice unto the primal fire!
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2. |
Pureblood Demon
10:10
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By the coming of the Old One, the harbinger of the end times
Demonic hordes despoil and ravage the land.
Virtuous mortals step forth to trespass the mist to interdict this incursion
Bravely, they face the soul-starved husks and the ravenous behemoths
And as carnage grips the cities and darkened kingdoms, some venture to the depths of carrion and ordure.
What began as a divine mission to castigate and scour the filth of an execrable vale was crushed by the weight of plague and abominations.
She lays beside her fallen knights
White robes stained by waters borne of blight
Their cleansing crusade was broken by malaise
And she deigned to be the one who stays.
One pure demon's soul became this maiden’s boon
Matron to the wretched folk, please heal our wounds.
Thus did she become as a saint to the leprous and vagrant ones, dispossessed of home and comfort.
The infernal essence within her did atrophy and wane by the light of her rectitude, and compassion eclipsed all traces of corruption.
Her guardian and lover stands firmly in defense
And sees intruders slain or driven hence
Circumscribed by those discarded and torn
In a sanctum of pythogenic unborn.
Alas, not all would share and bask in reverential bliss
That which is fair shall ever engender a cancerous envy
The malignant, spiteful crone emboldens and leads travelers amiss
To rid the maiden of blood and soul, and render her sanctum empty.
In the valley of feculent rains, where the dross populace reside
The ostracized and unwanted are callously cast aside.
But deep within this afflicted gulf, a humble priestess prays
For mercy and deliverance for pariahs consigned to decay.
One pure demon’s soul brought grace to defilement
The lady of white cloth laments God’s abandonment.
Her benevolence transcends the maker she entreats
Yet she is fated as prey for demon slayers to defeat.
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Blacksoul Seraphim Worcester, Massachusetts
Blacksoul Seraphim was created to convey the suffering, pity, and sorrow that a fallen celestial being would feel being bound to dwell in our frail, corrupted mortal society.
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