The Crawler

The Dark Guardian shall come and protect us... and all that is flesh and light shall die.
But you, too, wish for the black void... you tire of your travels, your burdens, the cries of the helpless, the cries of your dead. You too will be swallowed.

 We drink the sounds you give us. The cries of your young, the gurgle of a freshly ripped throat, we give thanks for your desperation.

What happens to this piece of flesh when darkness touches it's soul?
Petals, falling into the river. You are the flowers the children will pick and cast into dead water.

It doesn't matter if you leave. We are inside you. Your heart, your lungs, your thoughts will all be blackened.
You try to run away, but you are made of sand! You are coming apart between our fingers!

	Who made you? Who crafted such slight flimsy forms? You rip like insect wings in our hands.
Do not provoke us with the bonegleam shining from your broken bodies. It is a transgression against the night



          We have waited centuries for you.
The lightbringers have come, but this is the kingdom of unlife now, this is the kingdom of death!
This Land is Ours! Darkness shall spread across the world






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