The sky is mauled by the darkness,
a gathering awaits upon the Ancient Moon,
and as the glow from it seeps within my essence,
I know the Council will be here soon.
Spreading like wildfire on dry brush,
the Mark feeds on every soul.
Yet those who can maintain its rush,
will no longer deal with its tole.
Yet those whom are branded all have lost
a good piece of themselves to the hooded Black,
a species or race or kind unlike man whose cost
is more than any amount of gold that could fit in a sack.
====================
As the Prince waits for the rising Sun,
as the night slowly becomes day,
knowing the Judgement will surely