Far away in Fairyland
Where sea met gilded shore,
Ere sun and moon shone over land,
With blossom, evermore.

And in fields of scented grass
Two kingdoms stood aside.
Within a high, cold mountain pass,
There stood a third, astride.

In kingdom each was a hall
Of gold, of silv' of iron;
Three Houses raised after the fall
Of King Anelion.

Those kings were brothers from their birth,
And brotherlike they were;
They shared their sorrows and their mirth,
And stood together wherever.

My name is Damien Stryker
In life
A beguiling rogue ,born to royalty
Nary a care in the world
Believing in neither God or Satan

On a ride to my home
A road taken many a times before
My horse began to rear
Ah but what is this I hear
The trees are chanting my name
Voices drew near
Captured
I was set upon an Altar
As a sacrifice to whom

(Based on a story idea by Joe Kubert)

It’s Belgium ’44, the world’s at war.

The yuletide came and went, but brought no joy.

The Bulge is still a challenged corridor,

 yet with their progress troops now redeploy.                               4

And so the Private finds himself alone.

Awareness has returned and with it pain.

If my mind is ever present

and my solitude's a friend,

dark ideas lead to actions

darker actions, towards a trend;

~

a stoic calm is my exterior

never, ever break a sweat,

in the hollow of my inner being

I've this appetite to whet.

~

Within the chasm where my soul goes

a dank pulsating yearns to start,

tuning out the distant conscience

because I haven't any heart;

~

half the time I am the predator

in the darkness after day,