The Wolf Shepherd.
He is the demon.
Pacing the brink of the horizon,
where the pastures meet the heavens,
cloaked in the fire of the setting sun.
Arms wide in the inferno's embrace,
as he closes the flock's timid gaze.
Herald, of the harvest's last reaping.
Advancing, the cliffside shores, weeping.
Incinerating, the flocks, leaping.
He is the coming storm.
Standing amongst the pyres, swearing an undying oath,
unto every star at the gates of the cosmos.
"From shore to burning shore, I shall bring an end.
So that which is ash, might be beautiful again."