Who now strides on my trail

devouring the distance between

no matter how I flee, the wasted

breath of my haste cast into the wind

and these dogs will prevail

dragging me down with howling glee

for the beasts were born fated,

trained in bold vengeance

by my own switch and hand

and no god will stand in my stead,

nor provide me sanctuary, even

should I plead for absolution --

the hounds of my deeds belong

only to me, and they have long hunted

and now the hunt ends.

Songs of Guilt

Bet’netrask