Children of the Fortress

Badwitch coming,

Burning down the skies,

On skirts of ragged green fire.

 

Badwitch coming,

Burning down the walls,

Carrying knowledge of

The dark gods deepest secrets;

Of the key that

Shouldn’t be turned.

 

We are children of the fortress,

Trembling, waiting;

Holding to the pebble truth:

It’s not what you take away,

But what you get to leave behind

That really, really counts.

 

20/9/2012