The Skeleton Man

They came from behind a rain of fire and four-pointed steel.
Marched and brandished their stone-sharpened blades.
Brought the end of hope as the sun wept and bowed to the night,
boots stained in mud and merciless victory ordered by their generals:

One of creatureous eyes and the sting of a whip.
Another with a hook for a hand and iron jaw to match.
The warrior from the water with scales like armor.
The soldier of three eyes and not a soul behind them.

And a witch of such ferocious beauty,
her victims mesmerized as stone statues,
she whispered those venomous enchantments
with a satisfying intimacy.

And through the fog of war
entered a purple beast of graceful feral,
atop perched a rider wrought with a darker essence,
heart as black as the voids where his eyes should be,

cursed by a gray skull
to forever wear a gray skull

A skeleton man.
A skeleton man.
A skeleton man.
A skeleton man.

Abomination of abominations.
A grim product of the unnatural
waging war for the unnatural
until his plague becomes master of all:

Master of bodies
Master of minds
Master of souls
Master of devilry

Master of planets
Master of stars
Master of galaxies
Master of the universe

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