The spirit of Judas...
Iscariots is alive and well seeking a warm body; weak ground to dwell.
The death of his body gave way to the spell,
Cold and haunting; too cold, so it tells.
Roaming the land, seeking to devour; in the heart with envy, secretly not to unveil.
Truth be told, money is his lure.
Power and prestige is the bate not the cure.
In and around the mist of old; unraveling its web around unknowing feet.
First it smiles and welcome you in.