By: Nathan Hill~

simple bardThe Keres come here every night,
to softly nip my ear.
They purr, “Sweet child, void of light,
sing words we long to hear.”
They listen as their talons gleam,
along my slender throat.
Blood soaked feathers slick and warm,
become my sleeping coat.
There is no need to quake in fear,
I love to play along.
It’s nice to have an audience,
that yearns to hear my song.
I sing to them of Morning Star,
Leviathan and Baal.
The gravest deeds of devils dark,
by name I know them all.
They coo and click to pull me close,
at serenades of death.
Raven eyes imploring me,
they hang on every breath.
And every tune comes more corrupt,
than others sang before.
But last of all, the ballad black,
is what they came here for.
It’s this they need, the sable tale,
that calls the sanguine sea.
They crave that which is darkest most,
so I now sing of me.
© Nathan Hill. All rights reserved, 11 days ago