Caje Auchard, Hearken Now

Hearken to me you spineless swine I will tell you a tale as old as time When mead flowed free for men so brave To face head on their fiery grave

Gold and silver a man’s delight Stolen from their purse in the dead of night ‘Cause the night’s dead still and deader black The streets run feral with those who lack

Yet ‘tis time for him at last The mighty warrior from the past A past so dark they dare not speak The blood on his hands had made them meek

With an axe in hand and wicked grin Like a lifetime dancer he began to spin The heads of gods lay on the floor With an unyielding bloodlust he begged for more

With a child’s arm and woman’s breast He let out a yell from within his chest The souls of the damned reached out to him He spat and laughed, his mind so grim

Yet with a grasp like no other They pulled him down and began to smother His soul now sent to Hell The tragic end known all too well