I am The Embodiment of Terror.
In Kelligrews, cold wind doth blow,
From clouds above, begins to snow.
The bitter touch of Frost's fell hand,
Caresses gently wind-swept land.
There is but one who dares to walk
The winter landscape, the ice he mocks.
The cold wind can blow where the cold wind may,
As Kevin Sooley hunts for prey.
He sits upon his throne of skulls
and sipping blood, he slowly mulls
what method best to hunt his foe?
Dagger, sword, or mighty bow?
Nay, none of these suit him right!
His enemies must taste true fright.
He settles on his hands alone,
The power within can crush through stone.
His foes live in terror of the night,
None shall live, none dare to fight
The last thing heard is a battle shout
then the cry of anguish: a life snuffed out.
Wiping blood from bearded chin,
Kevin cleanses land of sin.
Thanks to him, there is no strife.
It is to him you owe your life.
Helm Hammerhand has often said
If he faced Kevin, He'd be dead.
A silent stalker in land of ice,
The thirst for blood his only vice.
So if you hear a mighty roar,
Go inside and lock your door.
Down your spine runs a sudden chill;
Kevin Sooley is out to kill.
By Matt Fitz
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