Jagged blade, Vorpal
Edged, Obsidian handle
Defiant to the
Heavens,
Resting high atop
Broken corpses.

Crawling up from
Hades clutch, the
Tattered victor towers
Above, Standing
Stalwart;
Ward against death.

Grasping Rage with
Tired hands, strikes
A path through
Lowly few that
Would dare issue
Challenge.

Grieving,
Yet, the warrior
Stands, in bloody
Acts he hangs his
Head, a curse to walk
Amongst the Slain.

Rage yet carves its
Honorless
Path, his soul laden
With innocent death
But what use, a blade,
With none to claim?

Now he treads
In obsidian shell
Strength
Ever leeched by
Jagged Rage,
Champion among the

Hollow.

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