Riddles

My teacher showed me,
in the heavens, death flies,
His wings like the clouds.
he darkens the skies.

A seed in the soul
Is where it took root
It withers we branches
and yields soured fruit

A Compass to guide
No step amiss
down deep my steps took me
beyond the Abyss

At the heart of all things
I dared uproot man
Shattering the cost
I am, Leviathan.

Riddles

After Eschaton jack_murtagh_9