PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

There fixed is the white
The lonely tower reaching high
Juxtapose to the sky.
The far reaching beacon
Of pride and wealth.

They travel far across the land
Across the winds
And easy plains
Of supple stalk and greening grass.

Faced with the ramparts,
Upheld and unbent,
The edifice of master and dominion;
The will of fathers
Tempered in distrust and forged by war.

They march unfettered and unbroken,
White columns clad in malice,
Intent on destruction and bloodshed,
They march upon the walls,
To impose a peace,
That’s poised upon the spear.

They who are seen bloody and ragged
From long days upon the campaign,
They march upon the stone,
dug under and primed.
they who put the earth to fire
and bring the colossus to its knees.
As the white streaks of men
Dash through the gap,
The thunder of voice crashes upon the walls.

“Take to the steel
And passioned blade
Lament in your zeal,
and make them unmade.”

Cried forth in bold
The keeper of the mass,
The leader of the ring,
The master of the horde,
Merus himself had lent
His voice to the fray.

Lo forth from this cry
Did usher the masses with vigor,
And rallied his foal with thirst,
The thirst that one can only drown in blood.
So did the mass as it plunged through the streets,
Like infection to the wound.

But lo before the square,
Stood the daring captain Daniel.
With his home to mind,
And courage to the heart
He did cry.

“Rise up men as a flood
Soldiers of the hold,
Take to arms and covet their blood,
And leave them as a flower to the cold.”

As a bolt of thunder
Rained down the defenders
Poised with blade to hand
And ice in their eyes,
So came captain Daniel.

Each man took to stroke
And felt clashing of blade,
the hew of the rueful axe,
or the blister of the arrows.

The soldiers of the hold
Took fight to their foe,
Like puss to the wound.

The gleeful music of death’s harp
Resounded and ravaged the street,
So bold Daniel did dance
All amongst the fray,
With fanning shield and whipping blade.

The supple curves gleamed by light
Of the gore that coated its convex.
As the moon waxes and wanes through the dark,
So did his blade wane with the flesh,
And wax with the follow.

But lo descended the mountains shadow,
And upon Daniel he placed his strokes,
And struck three times,
And laid the fourth.

Good Daniel lay crumpled,
Left without spirit,
He lay without a breath,
Without a breath to call his own.

The brute stood high,
A pillar of strength,
A beacon of fates dreadful hand.

Into the bloody fray
strode the captain’s man,
Amulus, lord-master of the lance.

Quicker than the eye
And lighter that the wind
He danced round his side,
And stuck south,
South of the collar.

Lo’ every mountain must crumble,
Tumbled and left lame,
Fell before glory
Slain before victory.

No cheers reached the air
For time was rationed,
For the day must tear on,
For today men must die.

As malice and hoof
Bound cross the stone,
As the black beasts thunder through,
With the sparking hooves,
And their steamy breath.

Broken but unfettered,
Daniel took stand,
And with the voice of man,
Thundered to god.

“Take to your life
And harness death by hand,
Give bodies to grave by strife,
Or leave them bloody on the sand.
The enemy ask only for your shield,
But offer him your spear,
Deliver them to the carrion fields,
Or bid them rout in fear.

And so men took to the streets
And bayed beast, man, or god,
To relinquish them of their stance.

Stone could not be so unbending,
No beast as fearsome,
No wall so imposing,
As what clashed upon that street.

Blood would wet spear,
Shield broke brittle bone,
As death beat upon his shield drums,
As sword cymbals clashed,
As spear pierced his winds,
He sang amongst them,
His orchestra of the damned.

The battle was short,
And the streets ran wet,
No cheers were heard,
No songs to sing.

The only praise were eyes to the sky,
Thanking god
then cursing with name
as arrows rained down,
the rapture of armies.

They fell by droves,
Like men to the axe,
No man was spared the blistering blow.

Brave Daniel gave shout,
“Look to the walls
We once held in might.
Our foe now stands tall
To fire volley instead of fight.”
So Daniel sang his last.

The men turned and took flight
from the bloody scene.
Poor Daniel he fell
His heart laid open,
By the barbs and flight.

His last thoughts
They were to the sky,
Of his heart and his home.

Lo’ how his blood ran the course
Of the cobble and stone,
And as his blood fled flesh
His men fled foe.

The black beast did follow
And slaughtered the streets,
Cut the lambs throats,
And threw them to the gods.

But like sheep to a shepherd,
They rallied round their best,
So they turn to brave Amulus
The second to the fall’n.

“To arms rally and follow,
Take death by the hair,
And lead him to sorrow,
And leave them without care!”

With call they rallied,
Cold justice to heart
They invoke every wrath.

So charged in mass once again
With only pray to the heart
And war upon their breath.
So clashed man against men,
But the blood makes no distinctions,
As it pools together,
Without thought to race or creed.

The drug on for hours without end,
All men grew wear,
While the onslaught grew fresh.
Great Amulus gave call to them,
“Hear me men of the hold
No man should lay forgotten
Dead with nothing to uphold,
Left on the cobble rotten.
Spare no thoughts to fear,
Spare only thoughts to thrust of steel,
So they feel your pain by spear,
Leave them not but pain to feel.”

So with new vigor arose the defenders,
Man to men the hold held ground,
Till arrows they fell,
Like the bodies they struck.

The bodies they fell by droves,
They piled themselves high,
High as those whose blood would soon mortar it.

No man left spare on the sight
The sight that had unfolded.
So they took shelter,
Behind friend and brother,
And held hate in the heart,
and release by the sword.

The fury unlaid itself,
With every stroke,
Of the flesh,
Or the hewing on a body.

As pain vented by blade,
So the bodies found height,
So prey and predator
Might sleep together.

The hold held new heights;
The ground of the flesh.
The enemies they climbed,
And volleyed dread wall.

Men fought upon the ramparts of arms,
And fell amongst the others,
So death might poured new mortar,
A lovely thick red.

As the day wore on,
So even the sun gave in
Gave in to fatigue,
And receded to his borders
So he may battle another day.
The hold found safety
At the feet of their lords chair,
And stood ill poised to fight.

The last of the endless horde,
Trudged through the doors,
And took to the heights and the halls,
To ravage the last of them.

With their thoughts towards the end
They marched upon the throne,
The last pawns would fall
Fall before their king,
To no avail of his sight.

So strode the invaders,
The pillagers, the marauders,
Through the high pillared hall.

They found only twenty,
The brave Amulus at their head,
Their king to the rear.

Lo’ stepped forth the man himself,
The leader of the slaughter,
Master of the marauders,
Merus himself, he stood and he spoke.

“Your battle is lost,
This hold, it is mine,
Your men are exaughst.
Know that there is no sweeter wine,
Than that of your enemies blood.
Sweeter still when they give it to blade,
So that it fall and mixes in the mud,
No the sweetness never fades.

But, enough blood for today,
Lest I grow fat,
There is only one thing you can convey,
Surrender, a stay from this combat.”

The old king stood still,
No stone could be colder,
No soul more mournful,
But the old king spoke.

“My land is scared,
It bleeds as my men do,
In this pain she is ensnared
And I cannot free her with so few.

Though it pains me I surrender my hold
My people, and my power.
Lo’ I surrender the foaled,
I myself shall not be devoured.

I will not bend upon the knee
Nor shall I salute your grace,
I would rather die than see
The day where you will I must face.”

With that he turned,
His face to sky
And his blade to self.

Lo’ the blood pooled
upon the cold granite tile;
and as the blood brushed their feet
not a man did not reflect upon the day,
on the day they had survived,
or on those who had not.
For there, for there laid death
So regally upon the tiles.