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The white eyed raven sits on his throne and remembers.
His name is lost. Both to time and the screams.
There are few that know it, but it is not uttered.
For all but one to do so brings only death.
The white eyed raven sits on his throne and remembers.
He thinks back to his first flesh. Womb, meat, prison, cage.
It was strong, but he wanted to fly.
He supposes he should thank the pretender queen who set him free.
The white eyed raven sits on his throne and remembers.
She'd bound him for a while. Chains that dragged him down.
He was used to sturdier cages. No bars or locks could hold him long.
He'd feasted on her eyes after she fell.
The white eyed raven sits on his throne and remembers.
The knight was darkening, his soul still human then.
The false king fled before the shadows could lengthen.
The fear in their eyes was delicious.
The white eyed raven sits on his throne and remembers.
It was a sparrow that felled the knight and the soulless beast that followed.
The raven burned his wings off with hellfire.
He was the only one who deserved to fly.
The white eyed raven sits on his throne and remembers.
The false king brought the knight back. One of them at last.
He burned fast when the shadows caught him.
His reward for a pleasing gift.
The white eyed raven sits on his throne and remembers.
His knight followed him. Called him king, brother, Sam.
Hell stilled to see his reaction. He laughed, a loud caw.
Blood gives both power and privilege.
The white eyed raven sits on his throne and remembers.
It was so long ago, but the knight stayed.
Bound to the throne by love, not steel.
To stay by his side forever.
The white eyed raven sits on his throne and remembers.
He is one of a pair.
Hell is not his.
It is theirs.