"The Traveller" by Trageleoth Le'Coeur


A lone traveller walked the road
Through the girth of Sapience he did strode
Far from his home, young and bold
Seeking knowledge, of wise and old


From city to city this traveller went,
Not one soul wary of his intent
Asking questions with every footfall
Hoping to learn the meaning of all


To Shallam's streets he came
to play his wondering game
but all, at first, in vain
as, seemingly, it pertained


Of them he asked "Know ye of Truth,
of strength, of power?
Of standing aloof,
betwixt others who cower?"


"Speak not such blasphemy,"
an old priest cried,
"your 'truth' is heresy,
you seek only lies!"


"Shaitan's word you pander to,
from Apollyon's cup you drink!
Black your soul is through and through,
in the ways of Evil you slink!"


Unwavering, his daegger flashed by,
and, as blood poured from the priest's chest,
the traveller, a glint in his eye,
left, smiling, for the west

Penned by my hand on the 13th of Mayan, in the year 406 AF.