Homecoming

By: Gus Victoria

His sulphurous smile

Cold and sterile

Burns into your soul,

Beyond tiresome fear

You wait for his approach,

With arrogant strides

The Prince of Darkness nears,

“Welcome home friend”

The thoughts form in your head

Unbidden they come

He speaks without sound,

He sees without light,

Save from the fires of the damned,

“You do not fear”

The psychic laugh rumbles,

“You amuse me so”

To a garden you are led,

On the banks of Acheron,

The Devil’s son.

“Here is the fruit of Paradise

Fallen ever so low.

Look about and see,

There is none here that can,

All are lost,

Cut off from hope,

From all that was,

From all that will be,

They are only aware

That oblivion is denied them.

Fortunate they indeed.”

This a dream you live,

Convinced in your mind-

“This is no dream.

You are Duke of Hell,

Gone far too long above.

You are home.”

Let me show you,

Guide you again

As once before...

King of Ghouls - Part 1

Signed in blood with artful flourishes

Your name stands proudly as it glows red

Angry, hot it ignites and consumes the parchment,

Hide of demons once now is but ash,

The riches of Seven Kingdoms are yours,

The armies of darkness you now command,

The Tyrant on the Velvet Throne

Soon will embrace an iron mistress.

Distant laughter is lost in the wind

As ill-omened storms dissipate

And the sun breaks through once more

Only sufficient to dry the blood and rain

Imperceptibly losing luminosity,

In time replaced by silver strands

Of gentle moonlight.

Walking in darkness banished

By dark gifts bestowed,

None see as you the battlefield.

Your cloak whipping in the wind,

New lieutenants stalk not far behind,

The creatures sniff out survivors,

Woe to him that yet draws breath

For their teeth as dull knives

Will slowly slice and chew living flesh,

Your armor untouched radiates a power they fear.

Your soul is polluted

Blackened not by a signature,

Tortured by no tender mercy,

That piece of the Divine

You long ago murdered with avarice and sadism,

Buried under mountains of sin.

Emblazoned with cruel irony on your banner

The charge that mocks peace,

A dove flies above your army of vultures.

When the carnage on the field

Is cleared by ghouls

Your eyes turn West

Driven by revenge you march…