Lies of the Dread Father

Original media : TES Online By Nisswo Xeewulm Round-tongues give it form and shape The it that is turned into he They whisper to his decayed bride To honor him, to worship him They name it father, dreaded so They pray with blades of dreaded blood They speak one facet of the truth Something clinging to their tongues Shapelessness given form Change turned to stagnation One truth that becomes untruth A brotherhood of something eyes