WARLOCK

He appears silent ad stoic,

Tall and strong,

With a hard face he looks at the people,

Mocking them with every move.

With his terrible gaze

He turns the bravest of hearts to stone,

His breath is calm

His sword shines,

The darkness he cuts,

There are few those who oppose

A bloody trail he leaves behind

Cling, clang

The sword echoes

Ringing its cheerful song.

He's always near.

Monsters quake and shiver

With the mentioning of his name,

Terrible eyes shine

Ready for them.