The darkness looms over Aninta,
From the thick woods to the great river,
The town crier's shrill voice rings out,
Deep words proceeding from his mouth.
Then silence descends upon the clan,
On the pathways you will find no man,
All have retired to their huts,
Fearful of the wrath of the gods.
Patiently the vexed gods have waited,
And their longsuffering sorely tested,
Harshly the offenders will fare,
For it's time for Surugede.
Surugede is the dance of death,
When the gods pour out their fiery breath,
Loud thundering roar from the sky,
Deities gather, the clan to try.
Tonight the gods walk upon the earth,
The time of judgment has now been set,
For long they've been denied their due,
Their victims will be left to rue.
Grim gods and goddesses lead the way,
E'en the ancestors join in the fray,
The coarse laughter of the undead
Through the entire clan can be heard.
On this night no mortal dares come out,
Lest they face the spirits in a bout,
Alas the scary dance begins,
None partakes save the immortals.
This is a sort of prelude to the short story that'll be hitting this blog in various chapters soon.
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