Friday, August 31, 2012

Tales Of The Amulet Part VIII - Purple Prose

The ancient etchings ebbed and flowed
with crimson hue they ran
Archaic glyphs and siguls showed
And brought to his knees all man

Its powers were imposing, true
its grasp on souls complete
To those who saw, it saw them, too
And to mortal lives: defeat

Known by names throughout its time
to its creators, they knew fear
And those who followed wrote in rhyme
of its legacy year to year

The Amulet; its modern name
grows stronger as it destroys
Its terror is a boundless game
With the tricks that it employs

The horror it contains; undeniable
it can drive mankind to madness
Attempts to ignore it; unreliable
In its path: death and sadness

With its pulsating face, it sees the you
the beast within; it sets you free
No guard can shield; it sees right through
and creates a you you can't unsee

The Amulet: Terror and evil made real
unluck and unrest be to those it finds
There is no cure; no way to heal
It's strength lies within man's own minds

So pray, and hope, and pray again
that The Amulet stays far away
For its true cause is strife and sin
And it might find you some day.