Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

Dark Wolf Rising

Their ritual birthed me from the ash
And soot of their burnt-down cities.

Entwined in the thick silvery threads
Of their love of each other,
I grew to chase down the darkness
And give the sun a chance to rise.

The clouds kept us covered.
For several days, we slept in
A bespelled shack that could
Hardly contain us.

They called me Wolf.
And I was their child that
Would murder the tainted
Curses that spilled about the town,
Like vomit from a sick child.

I was hope, borne of darkness,
Touched upon by no one.

The people swore neglect upon
The devils that raised hell to heaven
And I glimpsed the memories of elders.

Between god and morning star, there
Were agnostics and paragons
Ready to rid the land of the fevers
That were gifted to us by the avarice.

Nevermore would I feel for these people
Once my task was completed.

3-1-10


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Dark Wolf Rising

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