Djura. Maria. Gehrman.
Healed by the hair of the dog that mauled you
Steeled by the blood of the beast that called you
Ravening maw and raving mind
Consuming strength and secrets in kind
What provenance sent you thence
Guided by whispers to godly tombs
What purpose lures you hence
Guided by greed to deathly wombs
What power of such profane worth
Drives your fleshy vessel forth
What right have you to delve so deep
And drink of secrets not yours to keep
I cannot see that pilgrim harrowed
Who came so far to prolong their life
With time and toil your focus narrowed
A manic fixation on blood and strife
You're so far gone past turning back
You're rabid now, brain rotted black
Savoring blood on every breath
It falls to me to bring you death
Djura. Maria. Gehrman.