I wake up to noises in my mind.
"I'm awake!" "I'm awake!"
I say unto myself.
My grove is my dwelling,
And I, am its Keeper.
The Keeper may be ancient,
But the ancients survive.
My steps are small, weary.
But my mind wanders,
Meandering through the wood,
The Keeper stands alert.
An ancient evil has survived,
That needs to be exorcised.
Moonbeams grace upon the guilty
And the innocent alike.
Another day comes to a grinding halt.
My grove stands-
Blessed it is, by the Divine.
And stand it will, for the Keeper watches.
The night falls,
My angst will burn and keep me aware,
By the temple of the Damned,
The Uncleans stand, ready to strike.
And the coil of death wraps around,
For I stand alone, however ready.
The pact of death has been sealed...
But my soul remains, poised to chastise; for Glory!