Sworded Tales

Yowza.  I didn’t expect sixteen weeks of riddles and rhymes.  My Sluagh was a busy little bee.  Managed to bang out the remainder in this post.  Enjoy the final foray into the mind of an ancient chyld, and we’ll see what next week turns up in the Thursday slot!  –ST

Storm

The sky suddenly fills with one big thunderhead
To prove a point to this ignorant dunderhead
As the heavens blaze with electrical fire
Know that crossing the Sluagh is a mistake most dire

Whether wind, rain, thunder or lightning
You can bet the message will indeed be frightening
For one never knows when nature will strike
Targeting someone the Sluagh dislike

Fog

An eerie fog rolls in in silence
To aid the Sluagh on their mission of violence
Like something from the wickedest of dreams
To cover our tracks and muffle their screams

Weapon

The blazing heat of the summer sun
Saps your strength, your weapon weighs a ton
Sweat covers your body and soaks your clothes
How much longer before you fall on your nose?

Darkness

Amidst the shadows, your target is unclear
Your eyesight falters, you hesitate in fear
The noises around you echo and deceive
Assaulting your senses without reprieve
You pray for the sun and its cleansing light
But for now you suffer in this endless night

Haunt

You cannot hope to run forever
From the Sluagh so witty and clever
You can try to flee, you can try to hide
But you cannot escape the fear inside

Sooner or later your demons will arrive
And I’ll enjoy watching you fight to survive
But the battle is lost before it’s begun
Torturing your soul until you become undone

Lucky Girl

As luck would have it, Cyndi is here
Rest easy now, there is nothing to fear
For she provides luck that will never waver
Unless of course, she holds you in disfavor

Unity

The sleepers have awakened
And wish to play the game
Regardless of the outcome
Penrose will never be the same

Lightning flashes and thunder rolls
To signal the approach of the mortal masses
The storm unnerves them, feeds their fear
Their morale crumbles faster as each second passes

The driving rain serves to chill the bones
And quench the fires of the angry horde
The screaming winds protect the Faerie
Deflecting missiles like an invisible sword

The fools wish to destroy
That which they don’t understand
Their ignorant fear unites them
Into a most formidable band

But against the Chyldren of Faerie
Who are protecting their domain
Never a stronger foe will they find
Then a force of united Kithain

So put aside your differences
Both Seelie and Unseelie alike
We’re all allies when defending the Dream
And the time has come to strike!

And if your Chyld’s heart beats true
The glamour making your Faerie soul roar
Come weave with me a glorious tale
Of how we’re going to win this war

Tiffany’s

A vision of these bitches writhing in heat
Just trying to find out where they meet
No need to fear, no need to sweat
A little hair of the dog is always a sure bet

Clash

The battle rages on as iron meets glamour
Screams and cries from both the living and the dead
How will it end for the Satyr and his hammer?
The next time he’s hit, he might just lose his head

Thicken or Quicken

The mortals engulf us, their rage afire
Like a shield, the darkness will protect my sire
But if iron should try and find his heart
Hasten his feet so he may swiftly depart

Hammertime

The beautiful dance that is the clashing of arms
Creating bloodshed and screams, such tasty Sluagh charms
The next time that the hammer will pound
Bones will shatter and fall to the ground

Batter Up

Leathery wings, flapping in the night
Awakened by the flickering fire light
Dropping from rafters, taking flight
And descending rapidly into the heart of the fight
Attacking poor children, trying to bite
At their face, their hair, oh what a sight
Clawing and screeching, delivering a fright
You’ll never again see them quite as white

Sneaker

The day is dark, eyes all around
Staring down at us on the ground
A little bit of dirt
A couple of black leaves
Help to hide and move without a sound

Mara’s Augury

The big bird took her and flew way up high
I climbed and I searched from the ground to the sky
It’s a matter of time, a matter of fact
Mara won’t come back with too much tact
It won’t be pretty, she’ll be naked and cold
But she’ll safely emerge, from the within the tent folds