Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

Depth of the illusion cast over the mind, like a spellweaver trying to keep a curse away. You utter lies and blasphemy at me without having known me except by my name. I am born a son of madness and sorrow, lost in the woods of your making. Shunned by the populas, denied by the traitors, I am the lone wanderer who seeks to forge my path through words and actions. I am me, yet you only fear my wisdom and refuse to accept my name. Who is the beast? Those who fear and do not accept, or those who know and turn away without a single word?