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Call of the Wyld

From Gaia's womb I came
Striding forth into the night,
The night of your mind and soul
Where the chosen warriors roam
As you fail to comprehend us.

Luna's fire blazes in my heart
As I hear the call of the Wyld.
Senses forgotten but reharnessed,
Feelings unfelt yet relived to extremity.
Form unseen to Delerium as the Veil
clouds your eyes to me.
It starts with a sense;
A grasp of fear at my heart,
The smell of tainted existence
As I remake myself in the Wyld's image.

Shifting I race at the unseen,
Legs pounding earth,
As I feel the Change.
Calling to the Mother I arrive to discover
The Wyrm.

Destruction and corruption wrapped
In fleshy cadaverous bounds of meat.
Dripping monstrocity, malformed to mock
The Weaver's Pattern.
Servant of the Soul-Eater, I greet you with my smile.
Unholy abomination, kin of destruction,
Servant of the Apocalypse,
My Rage shall you feel.

Man I be, but no man I am,
Of the earth am I, but nowhere be my home,
Suffering is my calling, the everlasting conflict that is
That I do only for Gaia's sake.
One last time I call to Her, and answers she does.
My fear gone, trepidation wanes,
Unholy monster, feel my Rage.
I race to meet this trespasser of the Mother's form,
Shape shift as I call upon the Change.
Body swelling, form becoming,
Of wolf I be, and man I be also,
With the power of my form, Crinos,
I howl to the wind spirits, I howl to the earth spirits,
I howl to Her,
To accept the offer I shall set upon her pire,
Where all the unholy shall be set,
Lest the Apocalypse destroy us all.

For Gaia!

Senses beyond what you may know,
Wounds I suffer yet on I go.
Back to my home goes Gaia's child,
Empowered victorious by the Call of the Wyld.

Written by Matthew Bridger 2000