Ghosts of the battlefield

¬†Wandering ghosts hide whispering in the mist, Forgotten voices echoing across barren fields, Here only one thing seems to grow,¬† Macabre trees born from the fallen and the lost,¬† their twisted bone branches still reaching Longingly towards home,   each day a new a new crop is sown, watered with the blood of the innocent, warmed by the heat of

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The Ravens Gather

The Ravens gather, Twilights endless hunters, night’s children made flesh, These Messengers of death, In truth Wars only victors, Silently gazing upon our folly, Hungrily watching our darkest mistakes, The night sky given flight, Judgements angels upon dark wings, Fallen souls who feed upon the dead and damned, Eyes Black pearls of wisdom, Awaiting in the shadows, Knowing man’s folly

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