The Harbinger

The End Begins

A force is stirring
The destruction is nigh
No hope of enduring
Though they may try
I know the Darkness well
Blood stains his eye

~

They call him the Harbinger

He gave us a warning, but it feels like a death sentence. He appeared at night, right beneath the tower in the town square and with him came an eerie cry that woke me from sleep. Hooded and mysterious, he murmured his warning, over and over again beneath that tower for the entire day:

"The Darkness is restless. For now his hand is stayed. But come the day in seven suns, his rage will not be swayed."

His voice ominous and strange, and his words have a strange rhythm to them. They would be elegant if their message weren't so haunting. What could this mean? Surely this "Darkness" couldn't do much damage all by himself? One thing is certain of course, and that is that if the Harbinger's "Darkness" is indeed a force to be reckoned with, there is no hope of repelling him. Our community is divided by hate and discontent. No one can get along with the other. Everyone stays out of each other's way, but wishes harm upon the other behind the safety of their walls. I tried to keep my people together, to counter their anger. I failed. I, their leader, failed. Well, former leader. I have long dreamt of the reunification of our small settlement. In my dreams there would be a man I called Miracle. Only fitting, of course, as that's what he was. He stood by my side and helped me gather my flock back together. Those dreams have ceased, withered away with my hope. Maybe this is the end of our already collapsing society.

~

These men are devoid of compassion
No care for their fellow man
Their eyes are suspicious and unfeeling
Forming some horrid plan
I pity their fate, these fools so misguided
For their plight has doomed their clan

~

That demon has stirred the town into quite a fuss. I, a tailor of stature, refuse to call it by what the townsfolk have deemed it. (If you could call them that, considering we avoid one another in every occasion barring trade; we don't even remember each other's names.) Too gracious a name for that devil spawn. No, "demon" is suffice for me. The thing's clothing is foreign and not very practical, long black vestments with a shadowy cowl consuming his head, it's a wonder he even sees. If it even needs to see.

Hm. That's odd. The room seems a tad colder.

Anyhow, the former town leader, now a lowly butcher, has been bombarding the demon with questions since it arrived the previous day. Poor, foolish man. The cursed thing, after ceasing its murmured warnings, now only replies, "I am the Harbinger. I come before." Just a wandering minstrel clambering for attention if you ask me, but the recent events have lit a spark in his eyes that I haven't seen since the collapse. Not necessarily a good thing, mind you, seeing as that spark lit the fire of our downfall, but it is a somewhat refreshing sight in this bleak land. Even walls crumble eventually.

~

Only now do their petty hearts
Begin to stir again
But the Darkness' eyes are fixed upon
Only what has been
His vengeance will be swift and strong
They'll see their folly then

~