The Necromancer

In firelit glade, in darken'd forest
Stands the symbol of all our fears.
With glinting eye and foul breath stinking.
A cloak of black is all he wears.

The pot does boil and the brew within it
Smelling like a creature, died.
Incantations roughly spoken
Giving evil no place to hide.

The words he spits and hisses darkly
Commanding those who reign below
The deepest pits of fire and brimstone
Come to life in this eerie glow.

He cackles as he dances for her,
Giving her his filthy show.
His fingers snake across her shoulders.
A shiver down her spine does flow.

He asks her what she wishes from him.
"For my broken heart to go away".
The glint returns, but with it, evil,
She should have thought what she would say.

With roaring voice he's in the fire
Calling on the godless horde
To do his bidding, as she asked him,
And in silence, she lies, forever more.

Copyright © Victoria Preston, 2009
All Rights Reserved