Martyrium hospic

Accursed

Martyrium hospic
In damp mornig
sunny beams
illuminating faces.

They are not humans
from flesh and skull
They don´t seem life.

But taste for blood,
fear and pain
bodies without souls
meander in earthly feud.

Calm which was taken
less faith of gods
taken with others.

Under legs dust,
will die all everywhere.
Wood, it´s accursed forever,
Alas them, who will walk-in
in dark land, droved with death.

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  1. Accursed