That which sleeps

the angst and pain are the fires that forged me

the hunted becomes the hunter

no small amount of grace to make him sleep

the heavy scars of deeply inflicted wounds serve to remind, not forget

you fools, the death that awaits you behind the door you beat on

the proud, cavalier tread heavy on the thin ice of vengeance

best you not wake that which sleeps

you disturb something that has no remorse, no fear, no limit 

blinding rage that burns hotter than the flames of hell

consuming itself and everything around it, consuming you

that which sleeps is from a time of war, a time of death...

that which sleeps only becomes stronger through the ages

it wishes to be left in peace, asleep, but lusts for death in its waking mind

longing to die whilst dealing out death, an honorable death

it is that which sleeps which you fools do not respect

you fools

best you walk silently and pass unnoticed. best you not wake 

that which sleeps.