Impaler Lord

66 23 4

The deity of shade lurks in the hearts of men,

a prowling evil that rides the winds of vehemence.

Lulled deep into the dread-king's den,

raptures howling from the abyssal behemoth.


Cruelty was his first and former namesake,

beneath his feet the heavens quaked.


Impaled upon poles and sprawled out to rot,

his infernal fury knew no bounds.

Upon their bodies his horses would trot,

a king of all sadists, the Devil's own hound.


Feared as the impaler lord,

flesh and blood written upon his sword.


The symphony of murder writhes through the valley,

of death and disease and all in between.

Captured in his infinitely expanding corpse gallery,

none will ever forget this horrible scene.


Feared as a vampire and the son of the Devil,

a horror of horrors, his hunger for cruelty shall never tremble.

Nocturnal Lullabies (#Wattys2018 Winner)Read this story for FREE!