The wanderer

He lives in the corner of the forest
Where the sacrifices and rituals
Are consumed, tears and blood
Of weak mortals
He saw the witches dance
In those woods and now
He romes behind the trees
Because weak souls continue
Living in his lands and
He most protect them
His empire is martiry and pain
Only darkness and the deep reach him
The rest are no more tan nothing,
They are terrenial
And him superior.