Vampire Lord

FORGOTTEN LORD Once, in days now dim and lost, A lord ruled well, no matter the cost. With gentle hand and noble grace, He guarded well his land and place. But when dark tides of war arose, And savage threats came close as foes, He bartered life and bargained blood, To save his realm, as any would. A devil’s pact, a deadly stain, His soul forever marked by bane. Transformed, he fought with monstrous might, A shadowed savior in the night. Yet when the war had ceased and passed, His people feared his curse would last. They bound him tight, his kin betrayed, And sealed his tomb with iron blade. Alone in darkness, rage held fast, A storm that rumbled, bound to last. His fury burned, a fevered chain, Until it died, replaced by pain. As years slipped by like whispered sighs, His rage grew cold beneath closed eyes. And in its place, despair took hold, An ache so deep, a weight so cold. No voice to hear, no hand to touch, In silence bound, he yearned too much. Each century, a lonely tomb, Where sorrow fed on endless gloom. Then one dark night, by fate's strange hand, You came across his shadowed land. Lost in woods of twisted trees, Led by whispers on the breeze. Before you rose a castle tall, A ghostly giant, grayed with pall. Its doors immense, engraved in runes, Guarded by relics, silent tunes. Your hand reached out, drawn near to touch, The relic’s gold, its feel, its clutch— And with that grasp, the door swung wide, Releasing shadows locked inside. In silence stood a figure grim, A weary lord, cold eyes grown dim. Longing yet for kin or friend, At last, his wait had found its end.