Prophecy

Dark passages twist and turn

in spirals of fluorescent glow.

Where am i? one asks.

There is no answer.

Faint green light fades in and out

As voices appear and disperse,

The clank of metal on metal is all that drives

The rhythm of this world.

There is no day, there is no night,

Only a green fluorescent to mark a time,

Of eternity.

This is the Grottle Gates,

In the wooded area of Abanin.

The forest is of dead trees,

Dead animals and depressing wind.

All that lived here centuries ago

Have died by the monstrous Wraths.

Yet this boy carries on,

And with this blind determination

He will carry the prophecy that is in his blood;

To destroy the trails of Abanin.

Why is it so important? One may ask.

These trails are spells in a solitary book,

In which the souls of man are imprisoned

And tortured into the gnarled beasts

That slaughters all life,

of many dark worlds.

And so James with fight,

Carrying a sword of light,

Defend he must,

Himself of this lust,

And destroy these trials

Of Abanin.

REED