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Gates to the Keep
Eyes, always watching those who travel these roads,
the eyes make sure all intent is not foul.
However, on the eve of destruction, the roads are full
their whole span filled with warriors and common folk alike;
all head in one direction.
To the keep, they march on
line by line, they make their way.
Peace and politics are behind them now, for their only emotion is bloodlust.
The eyes, they spot the aggressive advance;
alarms sound to warn the royals of the imminent danger.
Swords are drawn,
arrows fall and darken the skies.
Lines fall and people scatter,
they do not break under pressure.
Onward to the keep, they march on
reaching the gates and breaching them.
Storm! Storm! Kill all in silver garb!
Battle cries and screams fill the night,
as sword, arrow and ax pierce the flesh of men.
Such senseless violence over a political act,
the world is a tumultuous place in this age.
