Do not be afraid,
When you see the shadowy shroud,
swaying in the dark,
His stygian stare peircing into your soul.
Do not tremble,
As he swings that wooden shaft,
Knotted and gnarled,
And that eldritch edge, cuts the astral twine,
Dwindling your bodies shine.
Do not run,
From the winged woman,
Feathered as a raven,
Donning a dour cloak of mourning,
Over her armour, of silver and gold.
Who flies far over the field,
Finding...