Post by Creative Consortium on May 24, 2008 13:14:05 GMT -6
i.
It is too late to stay behind, yet with trepidation do we advance.
Unknown behind a stoic face with courage as permanent, as enduring as the mountain.
Shall we return, shall we live to a time renewed?
Forever is not promised unto us; blade wielders, bow bringers, wielders of spears.
All that can be assured is the ferocity of our eyes-
likened unto
hungry beasts, grown gluttonous on avenging the wronged.
Coming for the last meal.
ii
I have grown sick on the feast at the table of strength!
My body gives up the nourishment of my brother's blood, letting it flow down into the earth.
I take no succor in ending you, but find the honor is this:
to have taken one look from under the helm
to tighten hand in the gauntlet's confine while
you breathed
unknowing that I would be the harbringer of your end.
To what Gods may listen, let it be known I wish to only feast at battle's table
never to be Death's chosen to be on a silver platter.
It is too late to stay behind, yet with trepidation do we advance.
Unknown behind a stoic face with courage as permanent, as enduring as the mountain.
Shall we return, shall we live to a time renewed?
Forever is not promised unto us; blade wielders, bow bringers, wielders of spears.
All that can be assured is the ferocity of our eyes-
likened unto
hungry beasts, grown gluttonous on avenging the wronged.
Coming for the last meal.
ii
I have grown sick on the feast at the table of strength!
My body gives up the nourishment of my brother's blood, letting it flow down into the earth.
I take no succor in ending you, but find the honor is this:
to have taken one look from under the helm
to tighten hand in the gauntlet's confine while
you breathed
unknowing that I would be the harbringer of your end.
To what Gods may listen, let it be known I wish to only feast at battle's table
never to be Death's chosen to be on a silver platter.
