by Nick Gisburne
We made another mystery, like you,
But fate designed a daughter, not a son.
In every moment, everything you do
Must counter what her evil has begun.
No sacred, secret spells, no runes, no rings
Protect the people. She would see them rot.
The wickedness your spiteful sister brings
Will fester if you let it grow. Do not.
A twisted aberration, she must die.
Without remorse, correct our great mistake.
Her pestilence, too deadly to deny,
Pollutes the world, a plague we cannot break.
The ghosts who made her madness are agreed.
Let brother slaughter sister. Make her bleed.
