Where Darklords Come From

by Robert Shmigelsky


Night
sky
light, human
child at his window sill.

From his wish, as was predestined, the spoken of cradle bearing the still growing savior beams gently down like a junction in a song.

Ominous red sign
moon cast aside
orc peon bawls before his unseen god.

Ignoring his droning, the shadows swell and rise, give favorable cause for the season of war.

Short short story. Orcish horde marches to war. Shadowed assassin seeks out adopted parents, slays the boy while he sleeps in his cradle. Orcish horde mops up last remnants of men.

Omens, like English, open to interpretation.


Copyright © 2016 by Robert Shmigelsky

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