Sta.sh
Living in peace and prosperity.
Where strife and wrongdoing
Are all but nil.
There seated a King
Of noble bloodline true,
His leadership unquestioned,
Stern but fair, it's said.
In times of such peace;
Furthest from peoples minds
Was the daunting prospect
Of open war.
But upon every border
The signals were lit
As the enemy marched onwards
With arms beared high.
His forces marched out
Across the open plains
To meet the enemy
And fight them back;
But their resolve was strong
And the foe fled not
But pushed on ever stronger
Til his armies fell.
The greatest of his tacticians
Failed in every scheme;
And time was drawing slim
As the border cities fell.
Fathers rallied to death
As the citizens fled
And everyone that was captured
Was put to the sword. Dead.
Filled with grief, that King of men
Fell slowly to despair;
But in his castle halls, one eve,
Satan appeared there.
And whispered promises of power
With which to crush his foe
And save his kingdoms doom;
But that his soul he'd owe.
That King a blinded God-fear
Saw through His fell veil,
And routed out his saviour,
So Satan fled, turned tail.
But day after day and night after night
His great cities burned
And the smoke that choked the sky
Was filled with screams of fear
As his nation slowly fell
The seeds planted in his mind
Began to grow and thoughts of power
Flowed freely through his veins.
Until one night upon the moor
He called up the Dark Lord
And made a pact that sealed his fate
But saved his land.
That night, he sold his soul
That his people may live
And his armies fought renewed
With demons at their side.
And the enemies were pushed back
Or crushed entire,
And victory loomed over
What was damned;
And the people they rejoiced
Where once they had cried
For their lands
Were free once more.
But it soon appeared
Their joy was premature
When the women began disappearing
And the children died
All horrible deaths
That no doctor could explain;
The demons were out feeding
And terror fell again.
Filled with grief, that King of man
Lay upon his death bed;
He knew their blood was on his hands
And self-loathing filled his head.
And worst of all, he knew he was tricked
And now that as he died,
There would be only Hell for him,
No peace, no respite.
His soul taken by Satan;
St. Paul would not let in,
And thus he spent eternity,
Paying for his Sin.
Nope, you're right...
WTF?!
Wait... Nope, still don't get it...