Frostgrave Cultists

Mad men,
Flocks to the pan.
Harness by zealous faith.
Heed only to corrupted death
It lives.

Madness,
They serve for worth.
Promise in desire.
Promise of lies that ebb the strings
of fate

Dying…
Breathing their last.
Take not ounce of mercy.
Blinded meat bags of bodyguards
They shield.

Broken,
Desperate men.
Cling to their promise life.
Dash away like dirty fleas
They feast.

Lich Lord,
Frost from the grave.
Keeper of endless lore.
Seek to the light that the soul raves,
The dark.


 

Art: Frostgrave Cultists by devburmak

Note: Due to the respect of the artists I will now ask a permission to use their content from now on. If you would like to take a look at the artist, please the click the link from above. Thank you, have a nice day.

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