The misty air condenses swiftly.
Your vision blurs and leaves you quickly.
You hear a growl, but only barely.
The chilling air the night has brought thee
Stabs your throat and lungs abruptly.
Something stirs and bounds towards thee;
Hungry eyes that glare intently.
This is only one of many.
The Fog conceals the hunting party.
Leaving you to wonder, grimly.
If, at least, it will end quickly…
Sent there by the powers be;
The land is scarred and red.
A cancerous technology,
Has met with evil dread.
Horrors from another realm,
Invade to sate their hunger.
Tearing flesh and bone from limb,
Leaving no survivors.
You are there to take it back;
By force and nothing more.
With guns both light or large impact;
Knives and saws to gore.
Sir Detective Henry uncloaked a baffling mystery.
For which the crime assumed to be
Strange and steeped in melancholy.
The fiends and culprits, dastardly;
It seemed, they got away scot-free.
Sir Henry, so shocked was he,
Of his last discovery;
Doomed was he after he sees,
The grim, morbid monstrosity.
And this is how it came to be,
Sir Henry lost his sanity.
There’s a rumbling down the alley.
A low and earthy moan.
Some kind of monstrosity,
Has risen from its’ tomb.
There is no use in running;
They will all feed tonight.
Your only choice is fighting,
Until the dawn brings light.
Still on that Dark Souls 3 kick I mentioned. The lore of these titles is always so rich and complex. Here’s a poem I was inspired to write while reading up on some background lore to learn how magic worked in that universe.
—
The twisted powers of the void,
Sick and deathly minds employ.
Souls must pay a hefty burden,
Writhing in that smoldering cauldron.
Seeking tombs of ancient wonder,
Twisting words to tear asunder,
Anything they wish to plunder.
Lives are lost and souls are captured.
The price of these abominations:
Countless scores of helpless millions.
In droves their bodies washed ashore,
In numbers never seen before.
The air grew thick; a foggy haze,
Brought, forthwith, the stench of decay.
The living stood still, observing the dead,
Most soon fell ill, overwhelmed by the smell.
Screams and hollers of terror then echoed,
Along the worlds’ beaches, The Dead shambled and bellowed.
The living then fled, filled with horror and dread.
But nothing escaped the grasp of The Dead.
Bedsforth 