fauxcroft

Clasping hands

shuffling feet

moving away

solemnly.

 

Through gritted teeth

the wind does bite

at the hour of midnight

in arcane times

beasts take flight

but onward we move

in blind sight.

 

Through ancient halls

and passageways

we navigate home again

to a place of sanctuary

a place where safety is necessary.

 

Blind we be to these beasts

as we move about the monastery

still clasping hands

still shuffling feet

eyes are closed in prayer

as we retreat.

 

But through our faith

and through our wisdom

we know we are untouchable

for we are righteous

and the beasts are not

so they will turn to dust and rot

while we transcend

and rise again

for we are are the angelic holy men.

 

And we have wings

and we have amour

and we know we can devour

these beasts who challenge us so

but our peace and love will sow

our resurrection as they fall

no need for force

no need to grow

needless harm pain or violence

for our monastery is a place of silence.