ZIBA🔥
At the end of the battle, the vanquished shall give out a loud cry of innate pain
For the tales of fatality of the havoc wrecked on them shall spread to all the lands like wild fire
But the end of a single battle is not the end of a war
An army approaches
With tongues of fire on their foreheads
They swing their blades in the air
They chant war songs
In their numbers they pour out into the battle field
These were the soldiers that the old sages had pre-described
That the sounds of their footstep shall cause the stones on the land to quiver
That the neighing of their horses shall cause the hearts of their enemies to shrink in fear
What is the fate of those who refuse to surrender to this ravage?
Their blood will give the soil a new face
And their flesh will be a dancing banquet for the wild vultures
A hand has been forced to dish a blow to the oppressors
The vanquished will now become the dauntless
They shall plunge deep with their red teeth and blood-raged eyes to seek vengeance
And if victory is far fetched
They shall reach it with the last pint of their blood.
Comments
Post a Comment