Ode to Fel

[Golah]

In the predisposed of the hallowed moon rests within a quiet rift,

Sing the praises of supposed honored dreamers so swift.

To give praise to the dreaded art of strike,

Wanting your enemy slain their head upon a pike.

A rift so large shall swallow your dreams,

Busting and breaking, while it destroys your seams.

Hidden in the mask of peace, your words will be proven, clear your deceit,

A history of killing no matter the city, is a history none shall want to repeat.

Try as you might to clear your murderous goals,

The price you bear, will come to light, once the bell shall toll.

So smug and careful with your decorated marks,

The truthiness of your evil so clear and stark.

So be advised, and sit as if no care,

I dream a dream, I have no fear.

For as you wish upon a star,

I wonder not what you are.

Clear as day, your mask is no longer able to hide your face,

Now the city shall see your disgrace.

Beware, and prepare your house with care,

For the rift you see, sets upon you its glare.

While ending a dream is what you want to do,

It may in fact be an end to you.