The True Osric
Behind vacant eyes
Lies a mind like clockwork,
Tick… tick…
Keeping count
His enemies' misdeeds toward him.
True, his purse be filled
With golden words
But beyond compliant-laced Formulas…
Formulas…
Ah, yes, that's it…
Black magic dost run through
That man's Being.
Known but to One Creature-
The Serpent that now wears the crown…
No more art then literal fact.
Beast turned flesh
By hand of yonder Osric.
Flesh gone dust
By hand of yonder Evil.
Curséd hebona in a bushel
Poison travel deep through canals
Quick! Be quick! Be silent still…
Due his death like lepers will.
Curl crimson red
The orchard be his death bed.
Stab thee heart of Osric with arrows
Of a fiery tongue?
Thy slithering companion shall be food
For the dogs.
Servant turned warlock
Tables turned against
Power-hungry
Mad
Revenge be his desire.