Session 54, VP1

THE LAY OF WYRM’S REST

Where had lightened sky now fled

as blighted wyrm rose to fortread?

Two heads, two mouths, swing shut as doors;

man’s malice guide how hunger devo’rs.

 

Upon each coast stood scarred of hand

            bulwarks, steel walls afore hinterland.

At their side stood wondrous beasts

            whose might and love had been beseech’d.

 

The storm at last keened its shrill din

an echo stretched taut as a drumskin.

Fist and thunder, blade and bell

            ‘pon the serpent these all befell.

 

Its hide, a fortress worn as skin

            its haunted breath, whispering of sin.

Within it churned twin wicked minds

            mocking the bond twixt beast and mankind.

 

All within their chests burnt white

shed the last remaining warlight.

Horror refused to taste its dues

            like plague ‘pon the battlefield diffused.

 

Demons from gullet now were split

            summoners loosed on heroes sunlit.

Conduits, chosen, malformed, marked

            monarch of mind, killer martriarch.

 

Darkness fell as leaves a-wither

            from wyrm and kin of endless winter.

Alone, they could not abi’e;

wingbeats the herald of allies.

 

Hands detained, strike true at soul

            with sun-forged ring arrest systole.

See martyrs, the leech decry

their lives spent to end and destr’y.

 

Here the lightened sky return

with Ragnarok forced to rejourn.

 Two coasts, two fronts, repelled wyrm-snake

            man’s justice guide Vanachrom to wake.