Prophecy

First try at a 'prophecy' for my, as yet untitled, urban fantasy novel...

When ancient gates are wrenched apart,
The First will rise with shadowed heart.
Out of darkness men will crawl,
As one by one, the veils all fall.

Death walks forth, freed from her cage,
To mete out justice, in her rage.
With silent screams the flesh will yield,
What was hidden now revealed.

Alternative ending:

Death stretches forth her vengeful hand,
To claim dominion o'er the land.
With silent screams flesh will yield,
As ancient evil holds the field.