The crossroads – in the afterlife

Stirring, and whispers
within a burning
Desire summons,
therein, so brewing
for death

The lost, lie as prey
while the lonely stray
though walking in
the light; the crimson deep
her sight
and death to befall them
so it is foretold

Enticing and delighting, yet
defies
The mark withers
from her reach
Desire anew
for the ones who stole;
life deprived
for those who shall steal;
their lives, their fate now sealed
to decide
to crush and smother
suffocate
the evil

The fallen sing
avenged

For her murder:
Promised to another
her death but a dream
from the misery in her
enslavement to come
but before the ring is even placed
to adorn her stolen hand
the blood is spilled as a torrent, and
doomed she is, for her finger is bare, and
doomed to become the creature, the Strigoaicǎ

For their murders:
To come
she will be their voice,
their fists, their swords
when they have none.

© 2016

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