Spiral Spectre mark my time
across your furrowed brow the droplets fly
crimson ..... tarnished,
beckoning further assault within this great tower.
Ivory upon high we ride .... insatiable.
Devouring the powerful that dare
when entering where is where
without compromise or compassion
for this course is cold, and forced.
We are again into battle.
The plunge is sweet my foe but we must fly
for eternity grows shorter day by day.
Can we risk this fertile wet glistening whip on the naive
or is the pain of the day all they need to bleed?
My old friend we shall see.