17 December 2012
A caped silhouette stands lonely in the night,
All that see him murmur in fright.
His sword is plunged into the ground,
Still as a statue, makes no sound.
A crown of thorns atop his head,
A face if steel and a heart of lead.
Cawing to him, as if waiting for a command,
By his feet, the unkindness of ravens land.
Prince Of Darkness • Opuss № I