Castle Of Skulls
© Surazeus
2018 02 04
Wandering in the darkness of mute despair,
the gaunt man stares through swirling mist of hope
where owls and ravens in twisted oak trees
watch him groping toward illusion of light.
Wrapping blood-stained cloak around his thin frame,
the gaunt man clutches old broken wand tight,
and steps through the swamp of foul sucking mud
where rotting skulls of warriors scream in horror.
Lifting the iron mask of the dead king,
the gaunt man slides it over his worn face,
and raises rusty sword to bleeding sky
where hawks hunt to feast on souls of the dead.
Raising the Bible in his bloody hand,
the gaunt man howls curses at empty sky,
and throws holy book on corpses in mud
where black words bleed into the screaming Earth.
Shaking his fist at the castle of skulls,
that looms empty and cold on the high hill,
the gaunt man tears his hair and howls in rage,
our messiah transformed into our tyrant.
We came to build perfect Heaven on Earth,
erecting castle of towers from stone,
and organized commune of equal workers
who gave their lives defending our good cause.
The man we elected to rule our tribe,
once humble and honest, worthy of trust,
grew haughty and proud, corrupted by power,
and placed the crown of gold on his own head.
Declaring himself vicar of our God,
he stomped on our heads with restrictive laws,
attempting to control wealth of our labor,
and killed every man who opposed his rule.
Struggling to survive against hordes of heathens,
our holy commune modeled after Heaven,
ruled by the selfless Christ who loves all men,
was forged into kingdom of thought control.
Rising from the grave where his dead bride rots,
the gaunt man trudges alone in moonlight,
and kidnaps young woman with long gold hair
then rapes her by the river of black blood.
Falling exhausted on the field of skulls,
the gaunt man stares at the vast empty sky
and laughs when the girl grasps the sword of hate
and stabs him deep through his despairing heart.
His cold blood seeps into the rotting Earth
and his soul vanishes like fire in rain,
but his spirit stirs in womb of young woman
who runs weeping through the misty oak woods.
Glaring at their son who cries by the river,
the gaunt woman laughs and shouts at his face,
you father is the foul demon of death
who rises from his grave in black moonlight.
He forced me to reincarnate his foul soul
and now I curse you to wander this world,
shunned by women and assaulted by men,
for you are the cruel minister of death.
Wandering in the darkness of mute despair,
the gaunt boy stares through swirling mist of hope
where owls and ravens in twisted oak trees
watch him groping toward illusion of light.
Crawling steep hill in black thundering storm,
the gaunt boy creeps into huge castle tower
and sits on the throne in the hall of ghosts
to place the crown of gold on his own head.
I will rule the world from castle of skulls
and make all men bow low before my face,
then kidnap a thousand girls as my brides
so my sons will rule all lands of the world.
Sitting alone in the castle of skulls,
the boy watches sunlight glow on cold walls
and listens to harsh wind sing in the stones,
as darkness shrouds his world in silent gloom.
© Surazeus
2018 02 04
Wandering in the darkness of mute despair,
the gaunt man stares through swirling mist of hope
where owls and ravens in twisted oak trees
watch him groping toward illusion of light.
Wrapping blood-stained cloak around his thin frame,
the gaunt man clutches old broken wand tight,
and steps through the swamp of foul sucking mud
where rotting skulls of warriors scream in horror.
Lifting the iron mask of the dead king,
the gaunt man slides it over his worn face,
and raises rusty sword to bleeding sky
where hawks hunt to feast on souls of the dead.
Raising the Bible in his bloody hand,
the gaunt man howls curses at empty sky,
and throws holy book on corpses in mud
where black words bleed into the screaming Earth.
Shaking his fist at the castle of skulls,
that looms empty and cold on the high hill,
the gaunt man tears his hair and howls in rage,
our messiah transformed into our tyrant.
We came to build perfect Heaven on Earth,
erecting castle of towers from stone,
and organized commune of equal workers
who gave their lives defending our good cause.
The man we elected to rule our tribe,
once humble and honest, worthy of trust,
grew haughty and proud, corrupted by power,
and placed the crown of gold on his own head.
Declaring himself vicar of our God,
he stomped on our heads with restrictive laws,
attempting to control wealth of our labor,
and killed every man who opposed his rule.
Struggling to survive against hordes of heathens,
our holy commune modeled after Heaven,
ruled by the selfless Christ who loves all men,
was forged into kingdom of thought control.
Rising from the grave where his dead bride rots,
the gaunt man trudges alone in moonlight,
and kidnaps young woman with long gold hair
then rapes her by the river of black blood.
Falling exhausted on the field of skulls,
the gaunt man stares at the vast empty sky
and laughs when the girl grasps the sword of hate
and stabs him deep through his despairing heart.
His cold blood seeps into the rotting Earth
and his soul vanishes like fire in rain,
but his spirit stirs in womb of young woman
who runs weeping through the misty oak woods.
Glaring at their son who cries by the river,
the gaunt woman laughs and shouts at his face,
you father is the foul demon of death
who rises from his grave in black moonlight.
He forced me to reincarnate his foul soul
and now I curse you to wander this world,
shunned by women and assaulted by men,
for you are the cruel minister of death.
Wandering in the darkness of mute despair,
the gaunt boy stares through swirling mist of hope
where owls and ravens in twisted oak trees
watch him groping toward illusion of light.
Crawling steep hill in black thundering storm,
the gaunt boy creeps into huge castle tower
and sits on the throne in the hall of ghosts
to place the crown of gold on his own head.
I will rule the world from castle of skulls
and make all men bow low before my face,
then kidnap a thousand girls as my brides
so my sons will rule all lands of the world.
Sitting alone in the castle of skulls,
the boy watches sunlight glow on cold walls
and listens to harsh wind sing in the stones,
as darkness shrouds his world in silent gloom.
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