by Nick Gisburne
Fear the spectre, know her touch
Limping, leering, see her clutch
Child of hate and strangled cries
Wraith of evanescent skies
Beauty, terror, dark deceit
Kisses tainted, sulphur-sweet
Severed soul-strands, grey as breath
Maimed, they scream acoustic death
Smoke and silk, she curls and creeps
Eyes the victim as he sleeps
Twists to give a fiend’s embrace
Whimpers as she sees his face
Dazed, she stumbles, feeble, weak
Drained of murderous mystique
And a blinding, blazing knife
Claims the wicked spectre’s life
“I am druid, know my peace
Love, not hatred, brings release
Overwhelmed, be overjoyed
Merge with sky and sea and void”
Dead, the silent, spectral slave
Swift, the druid charms her grave
Calls the magic of the moons
Seals the space with wands and runes
Thus, the magister of light
Hunts the savage spawn of night
Spectres - wards of dread and gloom -
Fear the druid, know thy doom
