Tuesday, January 14


Clay man crafted one black night,
Debauched creation formed of fright.
Waist and arms and thighs of earth,
Deadened eyes, grin lacking mirth.
Belabored movements, dark delight.
Portent keeps him from the light.
What once was brilliant reignites.
Umbra deepens with his birth--
This monster, scion of the night.
With his purpose, him unite;
Give him mandates borne of spite.
Hungers need not be unearthed,
For he’ll requite the basest worth,
Execute perfidious rites.
Servant of the stygian night.


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