I am the Unseelie, an ancient of souls so lost in the wings of darkness
The cold northern land is my domain, yet I'm fond to prey on the one of unclean
Of the weak, the foolish and the mortal, a human or so he calls himself
But not so humane from what I see of him!
Do not lean on your faith when I pounce upon you
For no dead god on a stick could pry me from my wrath
Of guts and of blood and what have you inside, screaming in pain as I rip you apart
Then drench wet my bright sheen with the red of your flesh!
For I am the Unseelie, the last you'll see as you breathe your last
I roam in the graves of ancient false friends, looking for souls to play or a-masking
Finding no peace for you've made me this way, so dark and unfriendly by your elders' twists
And now when your kind had all but forgotten me, its time for my kind to bury you forever!
THE SIGN OF SHAIRO
KL
2010
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