The Crows Ate Well That Day

’twas dawn that called,
In all its fire,
To start the raging battle,
Such armour shone,
And voices raised,
All swords were set to rattle.
The sweeping armies
Formed their lines,
With strength to hold their sway,
And though the tales
A victory told,
The crows ate well that day.

Their champions strode,
With hero’s deeds,
All enemies cast asunder,
The rank and file
With pike and staff,
Caused noise to rival thunder.
The charges and their
Counter moves,
Unlucky ones to slay,
The blood that bloomed
Like roses red,
The crows ate well that day.

As smoke retreats,
The fires die,
Cruel fate has picked its winners,
There lay the dead,
All equal now,
The holy and the sinners.
This battle may have
Turned the tide,
Could have the final say,
But all is known of
Bloody war,
The crows ate well that day.

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Reblog : A Tale Of Legend

Another re-blog today, I have a few ideas going round my head but nothing concrete (again!). Hope you like this one. It’s not the usual love / hate / death / sex stuff I write about, it’s something different.

The evil beast,
with eyes aflame,
terrorised the village.
It came from darkness,
deep and foul,
to burn and kill and pillage.

The mighty swordsman,
tall and proud,
courage firm and peerless.
Did volunteer,
with heart so stout,
and attitude so fearless.

The ground did shake,
lit from above,
by lunar’s silver fullness.
The village folk,
in terror fled,
before the violent cruelness.

The hero stood,
before the rage,
sword held at the ready.
And as his nemesis,
did approach,
he waited strong and steady.

The clash of claw,
on tempered steel,
rang brightly like a bell.
The roar of fury,
from beastly throat,
would wake the hounds of hell.

The fight was fierce,
with many blows,
both landed and defended.
And each new strike,
that did hit home,
caused pain not once pretended.

As energy drained,
and strength did fade,
conflict entered final stages.
This epic struggle,
of hero and beast,
would echo through the ages.

With one last swoop,
of singing blade,
beasts life was then no more.
It’s monstrous head,
with spiteful grin,
lay severed on the floor.

Our hero stood,
with enemy slain,
satisfied in victory.
This tale of valour,
strength and courage,
written into history.