Poemhead

I Dreamed a Prophecy

A word for one

I dreamed of master

Drawn by creatures

Born of disaster

 

In fields of flowers

Ithuriel’s spears

There grows a taint

Not aged by years

 

By madness shackled

And prophet doomed

The invader’s lance

Leaves a piercing wound

 

Beasts damned

Lie in wait

The blows they deal

Leave wounds too great

 

The lady of white

Her mouth stained red

Her maddened cackle

Reverberates in my head

 

The priest of doom

Blood pours from his eyes

His wail is calling

Hell from the skies

 

The lady of white

The priest of doom

A madness of blood

Posture of death assumed

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