Callers of the Void (A Dark Brotherhood poem)

So few if any in Tamriel,
can tell just where began.
A tale twisted like an aging spell,
lost on the tongue of man.

Blood - furious ink thus spilt,
staining with no qualm,
upon innocence, white as milk,
the lions slaughter of lamb.

Some say they came with ancestry,
traced back to Morag Tong,
Others claim their roots are of the thieves,
And defend this truth is strong.

Wherever the Brotherhood began,
One thing is quite certain,
When sung the Black Sacrement,
Hope your call is not the curtain.

For none can match the aptitude,
And skill they doth display,
When it comes to sending you,
To Sithus' domain.

For in their unholy matren,
And dark fathers name they work.
An arrow for the faithless son,
A poison for the cook.

Toss and turn in the night,
Dare not mistreat the good,
For one might seek to call the might,
Of the great Dark Brotherhood.

A well written poem! It certainly captures the sinister spirit of the Dark Brotherhood in a darkly poetic way.

Thankyou :) Im such a fan of the brotherhood...

I love this awesome job!

Lol thx. This was actually just sitting in a notepad. I finally got it up xD