A Gathering Storm

A ballad about a bad man and worse weather…


Dark was the day that the deed was done,
Sharp winds whipping the air.
How could I have known in that empty place
My sins would still be laid bare?

An angry wind followed me, cruel and cold,
Its raging voice at my back,
Dogging my steps through the long, hard day
And through the night most black.

Storm clouds joined the howling winds,
Pelting me with rain.
True, it washed the blood from my hands,
But the mark on my soul remained.

A thunderclap boomed in the gathering storm,
Its lightning striking white-hot,
And I quickened my stride, knowing full well
That I was the one it sought.

Many years have I run now, far and fast,
Across every land and sea,
But the gods of the world, they know what I’ve done
And still they are coming for me.

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