The Talons of Institution


The Good King was gone – he had martyred his soul.

With vengeance sought fiercely, he had relinquished control.

Future visions were nought but apocalyptic campaign,

while his people suffered his narcoleptic reign.


Retired within, his countenance disconnected,

The Dark King was subdued as the Church had expected.

Heralding from the ground where his son lay still,

the Church manipulated The Dark King’s will.


His advisors and counsellors had been swept aside,

as the Church advocated justice for the child who had died:

‘It is a portent of The Coming,’ they lied with their hearts.

‘Thine only son murdered hath set thy soul apart.

Thou hast been appointed to lead us hence,

and purge this land of the evil commenced.’


They whispered and poisoned and told him in his ear

everything of promise that The Darkness wished to hear.

And soon it came to pass that The Dark King born

was made a thing of evil, and the land was forlorn.


The absolute corruption of the Covenant of Man

was inherent in the Church – the perversion of God’s plan.

And now The Evil King came forth with nothing good to say,

for the man bound up with hatred had forever lost his way.


Even in his eyes one saw the chill of feeling nought,

but the Church did all the feeling with the judgement they had brought.

And long had passed the point beyond which vengeance had been sought.

The Dark King now was lost amidst the evil he had caught.

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