Northernwaste

My mind feeds this anger like a ghost, tearing fabric of time to reveal itself, executing a dark reality where creatures swarm, bastards of a dying breed are shed of skin, hung to dry like husks. Battlefields are laiden with bodies, overturned of forced brutality that emits the evil in man. Hear the cry of the raven, it's black wings hypnotize the mind into a frenzy of blood and lust. The lord above casts a shadow unto the land, radiating darkness and revealing false hope. The cloaked one sends a message of grief and sympathy, only to be cast down like a dog. The wolf howls a majestic tune that falls on deaf ears. The night creeps in, challenging anyone to fear their shadow in the moonlight. Valkyries carry the chosen to the heavens, whisped behind masks of beauty and a curious energy. The battle rages on in Ragnarok, unbeseen to those below of lesser diety. The blood of gods seeps of gaping wounds and turmoiled fears. Swords penetrate, axes clash, heroes die. The world is submerged, twisted and corrupted, Its hate washed and cleansed. Lone survivors of a new world look beyond, hope restored to this land.