Confessions of a Necromancer

In fear to be alone
Under my influence
Inside my own
heart's gloomy silence...

The world I see with jaundiced eyes
Oppression and hatred, so filled
with rage and horrible lies
that the very voice of joy is stilled...

My blood is black staining
my veins and colouring my heart
My mind clouded, confusion reigning
as my soul and body shift apart

Evilest are the soulless their
heart knows no joy nor sorrow
their every moment darkened here
no hope for the morrow

I count among these twisted fools
these blackened beings
these forlorn ghouls
for in darkness my heart sings...

...and i dream of evil
sullied, tainted things
for darker than the Devil
are we soulless beings.

We raise the dead
Ripping their rest
From their eternal bed
And put our power to the test

Death is dark but it is the black
Of purity, destruction is impure
Only when a purpose it lacks
It is wholesome no more

Practitioners of such a science are we
Rejoice in disturbing the scheme
For when harmony we see
We are tempted to intervene

We raise the dead
We do not resurrect
Reanimate the corpse
In rituals of our sect

Twisted are we
Tainted and evil
For soulless be
The necromancer…..