The spirit of the night
With a deadly dead demeanour,
It sees me as a kill in sight
A kill it would devour.
The Sentinel glided towards me
With a golden spear in hand,
It can only sense not see.
My heartbeat, sensed as a violet band.
I will not die easily,
I am meant to live;
I put up a fight with all my bravery,
Doing a feat the Sentinel will love.
It soon overpowers me;
I look at it with a fearful eye,
It is not taught mercy as it nears me.
I await the life after I die.
It comes to me with no emotion
I feel my blood getting cold.
Around its spear its hands strengthen,
My heartbeat gets slowed.
It doesn't touch me
As my life slips away;
The one thing I dread to see:
My dead body as I go away.
Sensing its work is finished,
It wraps its cloak around it.
It spins as it becomes smooth and vanished
Silently into the still night.
I've endured something no one ever did,
Its the wrath of the Masked Sentinel;
Just be glad you never did,
Because it would burn like Hell.
