A small poem is written below, the handwriting is elegant and rich.
The cursed warriors of the light,
They come to hunt us here.
They come to pierce the darkness,
They bear the light we fear.
I prithee darkness, be my shield
Protect me from the light they wield.
I beg of thee, O' darkness strong,
Halt their passage, for they are wrong.
They think that all that's good and right,
Has no place in the dark of night.
They think the light is just and true,
And that, the darkness, it shall always shine through.
Now great darkness, I entreat thee,
Help me do that which I must.
Prove that the shadow can conquer all.
Prove that the darkness is always just.
Show them what it means to strike,
Out of the shadows, something like,
A wraith, a ghost, or something more,
Show them what we're fighting for.
Make them know just how it feels,
To fight the foe unseen.
They shall know the sting of fate,
When their minds are finally clean.
They shall know the fearful plight,
Of being trapped in their own 'true' light.
As death encroaches all about,
They shall learn to fear the night.
And so, please help me shadow,
To plant the seeds of doubt.
And I shall prove the darkness eternal,
When all of their lights have gone out.
~An Old Friend~
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