Prophecy of the Unborn Child
The dawn of the black sun in the skies
announces the oblivion of the night.
A legion arises as the unborn child
will slowly awake to its plight.
From the womb to adulthood
a shadow in pain apart torn.
Strife of waters, seal of mud.
Up the hill in the darkest hour.
Snakes hissing to the beast,
to resist, or face downfall as
darkness shines from the east,
a storm one should surpass.
Path of wolves, path of sheeps,
ahead lies the unknown outcome.
Pure heart gone as they outlive
The seed through, all was done.
