Contemplations Of A New-Made Lich Poem by Nathan Killeen

Needles tear into my flesh,
Feasting on my sustenance.
Eggs they lay to return anew,
When corpse goes back to grave,
But for now they lie dormant

Giving me time to hone my powers.
But was this really worth the hours

That it took to learn most wicked feat
That took from me my heart’s beat
To place me on unholy seat

Through time no longer passing
Of this unlife everlasting?

What good is power when
You are shunned by men?

For decaying visage full of fright
At which men cringe upon the sight,
Has now become my biggest plight,
I’m hunted down both day and night.


Hear me Oh men, I mean you no pain
So long as you leave me to my own domain,

Come not knocking down my door
I wish not leave you in my floor.

You may think me evil, wicked, and damned
For raising those fallen for my command
But it is you whom I have banned

For your own Zealous pride.
You are the ones to be cast out to hide.