He was born
As a lonely beast roamming without herd
Alone with his feelings
Dawn moments mirrored the fog
Opaque
As a throny bush in the deep of a forest
In the soil
Inside his thoughts worms mauld him
He was wandering in labyrinths of caves by day
In enourmous wilderness by night.
Patience
Which is pain was a weapon for him
As he was bron to be a butcher
And laughing together with death
At the memories of a sick race
He was never be seen
For blind are the ones created by god
He is known
To walk among them and judge for the first time
Kills the one who's chosen
by his only mate.
Death | 
