The Weft And Weave Of Fate (Kindred's Poem Finished)

As a writer, the poetic aspect of Kindred's voicelines have always appealed to me. In particular, Lamb's voice line of "the weft and weave of fate guides..." to be interrupted either by Wolf or herself has always piqued my interest. So, to satisfy the fact that I'll never know what the poem actually is, I figured I'd write my own and share it on here. Enjoy!

** The weft and weave of fate ** Guides our hand that nocks the shaft. It guides as well those who run from our unearthly laugh. To see our masks, graven On so many faded tombs Should be a sign, a warning; The hunt of Kindred looms.

The claws and fangs of one Or the other’s silver bow: An ending quick and quiet, Or agonizing, slow. The cowards and the butchers, The noble and the deep; In the end, all will find Their cold and final sleep

For those who fear their fate, The first of us will stalk; It toys with those who run from us Faces white as chalk. From out across the Pale, Their fears it will engulf; Brutal and remorseless The sanguine, hungry Wolf.

The second of our forms Comes to those without regret: Those rare and kingly souls who see Their final time is set. Its whisper-silver bow holds An arrow close at hand; Merciful and graceful, The pure and solemn Lamb.

Out upon this mortal land The mist of mourning rolls. With arrow, fang and jagged claw, We take their lives and souls. We stand now on a battlefield, Lifeless, barren dark; And so we Kindred leave To pursue another Mark.