The midnight sky begins to bleed,
once innocent and mild,
on the edge of darkness demons creep, bloodguilt with lust and vile,

the thirst for death plagues the soul,
hungers for the flesh,
lancing is the iron tole,
placed upon the breast,

thrust the chest with sharpened fists,
the breath of life exits,
into the heart the dagger twists,
mutilates the plexus,

permeating blood and bone,
soaked in ritual bath,
the majestic spirit no longer roams,
succumbed to demons wrath,

withered and rigored; immobilized,
life shed upon the gilded floor,
pulselessness and hollowed eyed.
the King shall curse no more.