War and trial, peace and error,
Sends a fervor to mend the terror.
Moonlight glows on purple sky,
As the battles beneath begin to cry.
Men come from all over, armed to the till;
Awaiting fate and the chance to kill.
A new enemy is at hand, one never seen before.
They kill without mercy, or so says the lore.
The legion approaches the unfamiliar force,
And swallows down fear - ever following their course.
They are drilled up the hillside,
With threats, vulgarity, and chide.
Admonishing reality, the captain gives one final demand:
“Fight without hesitation, else I draw thy blood in the sand.
Vents of steam exhume with each blow,
Illumining the night under the moon’s gentle glow.
A heart of fury bursts forth in a grand conflagration,
Scarring and quaffing life: breeding utter decimation.
The war offers no quarter,
And the weak soon find themselves under foot of the stronger.
Blood and mar, heat and chaos,
Retreat! Advance! What say us?
No one knows, but some cowards fled,
Orders cease now the captain’s dead.
A moonlit sky cast down on the shadows below,
And the fate of the Abilyle remains unknown.
Winds of Change sweep the land,
And the new force disbands.
Houses burn and swords clash,
As a breath of dreams is added to the sash.
Hope springs amongst those who bear it out,
But truly they know hope is impossible, without a doubt.