Book of Two. The secret of eternal life, found in ancient rhyme.

There was, in a spotlight sat, a man of copious years.

Learned from essay and error, and discourse betwixt his peers.

Withered by time, withered by task, withered by endless sight,

Withered from long day and drawing forth to endless night.

A quest to remain a necessity to avail the terminal fears.

Circle portrayed of calcite bone, drew from the light and made it hone.

From Druid stock an intonation rang, which drew from the dark and a spirit sang.

A voice which cut belied its creed, bringing forth a truth of utter need.

Two half in a whole of life from a soul, abstract and dominance in control.

A price to pay and wickedness to condone.

Brothers paired akin and of moment born, one sacrificed to the dark the other watched with scorn. As brother raised from slane he lay to walk upon the dirt. Where once a treasure kindled in foster now brought nought but hurt.

Darkness fell and hope did fall. A Demon king to rule them all.

Took all from all and returned nix but scratch as armies massed and fall.

Fate rode out with winged sword and mortal brother was accord.

Standing high on tower of stone sword came down and the deed was done.

Brother fell as brother fell and left was only one.

Gone from this world the door was closed, to return would take but one. One in two the secret told to walk in light from darkness gone.

 

 

When a body has lots its soul it begins to decay and rot. These things are known.
For a Demon to walk upon the dirt of Earth it needs a shell of flesh and bone.
How to keep the body new, to live forever the goal is sought.
To keep the soul alive, one twin dies the other bought.