Where are the bards that were singing?
Where are the swords and the bows that were ringing?
Where is the war that was waning?
Where have the men ran to on this day of dark and late?
They have fled this land of death by steel
for there are darker places in this world
Where life has fled
And men are dead
And fear and evil is immortal
In darker skies and tainted lands an ancient thing is stirring
Made of stone and rock and fire for blood and eyes so lost and empty
It towers tall over all with a crown of despair and power
And covers the land in sorrow
But from the farthest distant plains comes a rider worthy
Wrapped in gold with a silver shield and a sword he should be showing
He rides against the wind with an army in tow
The enemy doth rise in blazing speeds to meet their match on the Plains of Eves
Darkness has flew across the fields and light has rose from the skies contested
Bodies have fell across the soft green grass and flowing river of blue on the Eves
Skies darken yet again as an army marches forth from the bowels of Hell
An army exhausted and bloodied raise their swords once more to the Heavens
The charge of light was lead once more versus the dark
But odds were slim as the armies clashed again and the light was cut down in fire
A battle lost in brimstone and ash carved in stone for ever to last
For now it was over and done life had fled and good undone
But far out in a distant land of green and hill another army massed to go to Hell
Men and horses far and wide from every race they doth came
To stand and fight the children of Hell and write in stone their own story
As Hell raged and ravaged the land of West the sea began to shudder
Fire burst and trees were gone, the Plains of Eves were stripped of their green and blue
“Never again shall plants grow here”, Lord said above cradled in safety form thy storm
There growing on the horizon was a shape of silver and gold and blue draped in white
They carry with them naught but light
Evil flew from the Plaines of Eves as darkness flew and good men grieved
Fear and agony death and regret from the lands of uncertainty
“Never stop till the last man falls” were the orders that were blaring
Sound of steel crashing and wood splitting echo over the fields in overwhelming order
Again and again the armies clashed to break and shudder
The sounds of war had ceased to hear the masses
Silence over came as Hell began to run abroad
Never again shall this land be ravaged the standing proclaimed as they silenced the siege
But deceived all were for another army was forming far back home in a land of green
Boats bobbed in the oceans in the West and men and horse blocked the sun
On the shores there waited an army of millions and proclaimed the land sacred
They fought on the beaches they fought on the hills they fought in the house and barns
On the plains and in the woods army doth march over fields’ fertile green and ugly marsh
They came without warning deep in the night in the city of light
Slaying all and burning many was their call never did they stop till the morn doth come
At days first light the city awoke to smoldering ruins and the stench of lingering death
They looked to the North from the city’s high places; they saw naught but death and fear
They looked to the South and saw a great forest burning
To the East a great sea churning
And then to the West they saw an army storming
“Rejoice in the name of the Lord, for the army doth come,” a lonely preacher screamed from his tower so holy
“Take up arms for our brothers are here,” a standing defender yelled from the ramparts as he held his spear high
“My army has come back from the lands of the West,” the Steward said trembling on his throne
An army of darkness turned in its ranks
They saw upon them one Hell of a fate at the hands of an army struck down once before
Half a Legion versus ten thousand of the same or more
“Never shalt they win,” the Steward said as he walked through his halls
“Beat them back with song of sword and ring of bow,” the spearmen said from the ramparts so high
“The good Lords wrath beat them back,” the preacher said as he lay in his tower with an arrow in his heart so kind
Armies clashed seven times in as many nights on the fields before the city
They took to high places and looked to the winds once more
They say to the North and saw death and fear routing
In the South the fires subsiding
To the East the sea had settled and ships had come from the farthest lands
And to the West two armies warring
The focus was the ships that had fought back the storm for all the while
They land on the beaches and into this world they came
As messengers of light and good
“We cannot win,” The Steward said as he walked across the ramparts so bloody
“It isn’t possible for us to succeed, we shalt fall this day” the Steward proclaimed as arrows flashed by
Three armies now clashed on the shores of the city
Two were good and they were plenty
“Fly for your lives, thy city is lost,” the Steward yelled as he watched all that shalt happen
Foolish young king on his throne stood watching
The Steward who stood crying for a loss that never shall come
Brave brother who was riding his horse on the beach with sword aloft looked upwards
Kind preacher did smile as his death overcame him, welcomed to heaven was he and his kinsmen
“I will die for my city,” Steward proclaimed as his footing was lost and he began to fall
Closer and closer the ground did come
Brother cried and young king watched as Steward did fall without his city behind him
Seven days later the throne was restored and the vile Steward was no more
He died in vain to save his city that was saved by Brother so valiant
Young king looked downwards from his new throne and saw
Brother and company riding to the West all
