"My vengeance waits beyond the human grave,
against those futile men who seek to thwart my will —
and so my enemy becomes my slave."
He spake and showed where cantrips did engrave
these words upon a glass, beside a windowsill:
"My vengeance waits beyond the human grave."
"Behold," he said, "a man who once did rave
and hired assassins — my own hands did smite and kill
and so my enemy becomes my slave."
"Mordiggian," he sneered, "can wait and crave
my flesh to make repast upon; for good or ill,
my vengeance waits beyond the human grave.
"I've carved the runes upon my laurel stave,
to keep me safe, with all my spells and will,
and so my enemy becomes my slave.
But when the hour drew nigh, a solid wave
of ebon rent his flesh, and spake with voice so chill:
my vengeance waits beyond the human grave,
and so my enemy becomes my slave."