A short poem on Methos' time as Death, a horseman of the Apocalypse. His position in power. May be the prologue to a longer story. Please R/R and let me know if you think I should write a story based on the poem.
Disclaimer: Methos, Kronos, Silas and Caspian belong to the Powers that Be, not me.
The Coming of the Dawn
I am as death,
Though I walk, I do not breathe the essence of life,
My life, but a dream of ascension,
Conquering, riding out of the sun, a god in my own right,
I speak not of truth, but of history,
Believe nothing that you hear, nothing that I say,
I am not me, We are not who we are,
Seek me as you seek yourself,
We are not new,
Cycling through the past, the present, the future,
We are everything, and nothing.
My brother a distant traveler
Closer than any other,
In blood, in arms, everything but birth
We are as one,
Know it now, we greet the ever-rising tide,
I justify nothing,
Death shows no remorse, no caring for the fallen lights of the dying stars,
What is life but a myth of shared dreams, cocooned in the fading presence of an oppressive reality,
Reality is what I make of it,
I AM DEATH,
Come to me Brother War,
We sows the seeds of destruction,
Harbingers of chaos,
We bring the eve of the Apocalypse,
We four, we solemn four,
Do you fear us now? You should,
We all have darkness inside, I simply wear mine as a cloak,
Yes, I wear white, white hides no ugly sin,
White cannot be deceived, Death shows in white,
White shows in death,
White holds a secret power that few understand,
While I draw my sword, shining in the sun,
Save yourself, wander away,
For hope grows less in the coming of the day.
Mage Legacy
