by: Ace Warbringer

I am the Mill, I am the Grind.

I am the Child, Left Behind.

You are food, You are fate

If the Mantle, You wish to take.

The Hammers blow of the Ring,

The sealing fate of Time,

I am but Eternity

Frozen in the rime,

A fate placed upon my Corpse,

Its purpose unknown to me,

I am but Hunger, Nothing more,

Miller Eternally.

I hate what I have become,

Tester of the path

Grinder of the galaxy,

Sifter of the Ash.

A hope has sprung, Upon a find,

A Guardian most clear,

Machine and Nerve

Blood and time,

My Destroyer, I hold dear.

Should he survive my hunger,

And my old Foe's wrath,

Only then shall He be Ready,

To Tread upon the Path.

That is all I can Foresee

Of the tests He will take on,

The path that stretches evermore,

He will march along.

I pity He must Suffer.

His fate has been Revealed,

If the tests must ring True.

To the Mantle,

His Will, Be Sealed.