It has some kind of magic or science to be precise. Unholy, immoral and wicked they say; but holy, moral and virtuous I cry.
Aware of each and every muscle, nerve and flowing cell. Closed my eyes, stared at the skies and left my body somewhere.
I saw stars and nebulae and worlds full of life. “Oh ! my brothers, you miss so much; It is the most magical sight.”
And suddenly before me a ball of fire, a shinning star, I seen before. “Is this what I think it is ?” aghast, alarmed and awestruck; nothing but a speck of dust.
My brothers and sisters from worlds unknown pleaded me to stay, “Play some more.”
“Avast ! my mother awaits” I said “must return, no time to spare” and so my weary soul slid through a hole. Closing my eyes again saw a similar sight.
And as the sun rose, struggling through the clouds, I saw my spirit lifted giving a reason to fight.
This is the magic of spirits, this you cannot deny. On many lonely nights, embracing the spirits, I let myself fly.
In a hand he wielded a sword, a sword of gold and sapphire .
In another he grasped a shield, a shield drenched in flames and fire.
Hacking and slashing his way through an army of zombies and ghouls.
He came unto an enchanted forest infested with living dead wolves.
As he rested taking a breath, a breath this brave bladen.
Glazing upon a cobble well saw an angel, a fair maiden.
The angel inquired, feeling the knight’s despair ,of his quest.
Burned alive by he beast were his unborn child and wife dearest.
Plunging herself in well bid him farewell the angel of avenge.
But not before she warned the knight of his shallow revenge.
Thunders screeched across heavens, devouring combustion filled the air.
All creatures fled the scene, our warrior hero nay budged a hair.
With eyes as that of a demon and his amor weak and frail.
He slid his vengeful sword through the mighty beast’s grail.
Upon returning victorious the crib sits silent just as before.
He roams the streets at night piecing his heart back together,
whore after whore.