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The field reveals a new horizon.
Three hundred strong, banners held high,
White as the pure ideals they hold,
Ready to be stained and dirtied,
With the truth of the world.
One man stands against the foe.
No banner does he hold.
One ideal runs through his mind...
Stop.... Defeat.... Kill....
....Kill....
..Kill..
Kill
It begins
The clash of metal against metal.
Screams of men as the dirt is forever stained
Red with the spilled essence
Of the foolish ideals
Of the young
The weak
As the silent field rests,
The blood red fog of war fades.
Only one man is left standing.
With dead eyes,
Knee deep in the fallen
He disappears into the night
The Monster of War
The Ronin
((I'm not being emo or depressed or anything. The image just popped into my head.))
 PsykoMutt · Sat Jul 18, 2009 @ 09:01am · 1 Comments |
