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A grim procession parades; a toll must be paid
For the soul of a victim that could not have been saved.
Torches and crosses march dark new paths paved;
Can violence be quelled, or will Hope fill more graves?
‘Forward, men!
Praise God, amen.
He will shield us, so righteous,
If she dares try to smite us.
Her woods may be shady,
Her state of mind, crazy;
But we must force our light in
To be rid of her sins.’
‘Starved us of options,
Making her potions –
This mystic murderous wretch;
Onto her body we’ll etch
The runes of our Lord
As we thrust in our swords
And tear at her skin –
Let our God’s work begin!’
Faced with the wrath of an army claimed holy,
She’d lead them down paths where titans and trolls stay;
Hidden from view, not meant to meet mortals,
She’d gather her forces, send them raging through portals.
‘This forest may ward her,
But we are the Order:
Here to cast out all demons
And those we deem heathens!
A troll! Attack!
Fight the two at our back!
Pray! Kill! Stab them at will;
Sacrifice men, until they’ve had their fill.’
‘Push onwards, heroes!
She is ours and she knows.
Steel your hearts
As our true battle starts;
That monster’s cabin’s in view –
Stay to our Lord true!
Open her up, fill her with God,
Together, as one, crucify this black fraud!’
Despairing, uncaring, our warrior gets daring;
Rage building to bubble and send their limbs flailing.
Crows darken the skies as the chants and she yells;
The Order prepares to defend from her spells.
C H Mackie 