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| Poem |
 
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Death’s Usurpation by Josh Vaudrin-McLeanThe crown is fallen down, the scepter broken
The throne is threadbare and the frames are rotten
The ruined fortress bears a grief unspoken
The once luxuriant gardens lie forgotten
The king lies blanched and sickly on the ground
His final breath escapes, he shuts his eyes
Above his body, chilling mists abound
As warmth’s last tinge from his cadaver flies
The only ones within the village still
Are corpses, riven from their souls, who wait
Until their flesh decays by Nature’s will
To be resigned unto their skeletal fate
The King of Death upon the fallen treads
With pride he doth behold his labors’ fruit
Stark frigidness attends his step and spreads
All through the air, while makes he his pursuit
He stands now at the castle’s ancient gate
With puissant calm, he conjures it unclosed
And passes through while sun’s last rays abate,
Thus taking o’er the fortress unopposed
He gains the throne-room where the royal corse
Reclines beside his once esteemèd throne
Death claims it eagerly without remorse,
Exulting loudly in his chilling tone
And now the splendorous Pestilential King
With haunting poise and power takes his seat
And all the winds and owls and wolves do sing
A baleful hymn to laud his task complete
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