It’s Dread Children

There were but seven in all 
Children of the shapeless, forgotten form.

The doom bringer, life eater
the fate sealer, scorned of heart
Who dance in its living dark.

The Poor fellow’s bitter
the Beast, bearing maw
Fools to this dark war.

The Killer, bears scars 
The Doctor, dreams perfection

The Prisoner, lost deliverance.

All are destined to fall, 
By my gracious sword.