Atop a bridge of misery, with the finest friend (II)
Through forsaken fields I voyaged, swift and sure as the bolt wounding the night,
Verily, drawn to the quest I was by the captive's plight,
I harbour in me terror and dread, but also the adamant will to journey unto the furthest end,
Lone I am not, this time, being beside me the finest friend, willing to die justly and the wrong to mend,
Thither we have gone, at last, atop a bridge of misery,
One-time glorious soil, twisted into a gaol of ghouls craving one's injury,
The night-mare hath come forth, clothed with dreary tempest, harbinger of horrible death,
Eyes in the dark or bane of the ether, fashioned in voluble guise that taketh the breath,
Now shalt thou deal with me and a servant of lit thrones, our foremost faith,
Cry thy defeat and forswear thy grievous rule, lest thou be soon to suffer a fouler sneer as the least wraith!