Faerie Bad Things...

In the war for Dreams, someone has to be the bad guy.

War witch
Battle Mage
Eldritch Champion
These noble titles and more have been afforded to the Paladins of the Shadow Court.
Warlock
Reality Deviant
Anachronistic Criminal
These ignoble truths are the legacy that lies languidly in the weakness of resolve.
I have trod the faery paths of Arcadian Fantazy. So too, have I geased mortal kinain to quest for bane or bedlam. I am a sailor/soldier on the sea of Wyrd!
You need me, You microcosmic Sleeper on the macrocosmic quilt of reality!
Revile ME
Deny ME
Despise ME
But the essence of my ilk preserves the childlike awe of self discovery that you so cherish! Yes YOU! Who sits glibly, delighting in unintelligible imagery. Go ahead once born!
Pierce me with your Winter of Iron Knives! Riddle me with cold logic 'till rust flows freely in my veins;
Eroding my Fey Soul
Do it!
Nail yourself to the extent of your myopic vision. Smother my Kith and Kin with your apathy and become static as you consume the last natural resources of your dim world-view. My worthy Crusades were but birth pangs for the Black Miracles of your twisted machinations. Look upon the inane mundanity of my Seeming and know--That You--are a murderer!
Killer of Sidhe
Autumn Dust Child
You are the enemy
Yet you refuse to slay the Slayer!
The great and gleaming Wonderland that you covet has become the repository of your fear. Your corruption has ravished the Virginal Princess and all but annihilated the last of your Knights in shimmering armour.
Now, Darkling Nightmares, like myself; afford your only salvation from total Oblivion.
Fear the Good Folk whom you have failed to assassinate!
Understand that you have created the "fairytale monsters" that your savage inner child so dreads. It is by swallowing the once altruistic Illuminists in your hollow Purgatory, that you have unleashed me, a vile Lazarus; holding the key to YOUR Resurrection.
I am your horror
I am your rage
I am the dull ache in your heart
I am the empty anguish that closes your throat, during your Darkest Hour
I am the Shady messiah who will salvage your nighttime world by rending your mind
I will drag you--Screaming Silence--into utter madness.
Before I fall oblivious, on the glory Field of Dreams, I will vindicate your guilt by inflaming your deepest passion. Armed with the potent Chimera of your terror, I'm coming for you.
Foolish human, save yourself
Dream a little Dream
Take two--they're small
I doubt that you can.
Prove me wrong and Dreamy splendour will embrace you tenderly. Deny your True Self and my Oath's Blood will wash over you--Drowning you eternally in frigid stagnation--
on the Killing Fields of Ragnarok...

Author's Note

Archaic language and bizarre grammar, I know... How would you improve this?

Reviews

[Dewella~Vintella]

I cant say that I will be of any help as to suggestions that might help you improve this.

From the first line I was caught, I have a weakness for anything about the Fey, and I write with them a lot. What you have here is pure beauty in my eyes. I was stuck reading the words and hearing them whispered in my mind, caught in a trance from each line to the next until the end. I didn't have enough sense to think of suggestions while I read :P

In my eyes, truly inspiring.

Vinny~

[Kenneth The Poet]

Bizarre but beautiful, crazy but comely.

[Whisper]

only one thing- find the name of the end war of the Sidhe, Ragnarok belongs to another people.