A Mother's Teachings

I wrote this about a Goddess of Achaea, and her followers.

A War rages into the night
a Dreadlord weakening through the fight
swords clash, the air fills with screams
the foes gather and her blood streams.

Defeating her foes, she falls to the ground
Knowing that only her corpse would be found
She closed her eyes and uttered a prayer
One filled with pleading, not of despair.

She prayed for Vengeance from her master
to rise up and reap her disaster
The God of Evil bartered for her soul
granting her Vengeance, the ultimate goal.

She spread her teachings to those whom She wished
taking in and giving them the gift
The gift of Vengeance, the gift of Wrath
only asking them to follow the Path.

She calls them Her Children,
through them She rises again.
Their stories each ring true
and through them, She is born anew.

Upon the wayward wind does howl
fiercely determined, on the prowl.
Undaunted in their search
their Mother's Word will be heard.

The hunt is thrilling just to see
screams of torment and pitiful pleas
Vengeance to be enacted on this day
leaving its victim in disarray.

Plotting and planning through many years
Yearning to see a target's tears
The Crow is undaunted in its rage
slow in acting, setting the stage.

Quick to think and on the move
to their foe, much to prove.
The Serpent, agile and unseen
each action, no time in-between.

Deep in intellection, striking fast
leaving a mark that is meant to last.
The Sword, unforgettable when felt
Remembering the time when they finally knelt.

A Mother's teaching will not go untasted
for the Chosen will surely not see it wasted
Woe is to they who cross their path
for surely they will feel Her Children's wrath.