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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Forgotten Archive - 3. The Nature of Light and Dark

Drums, moans, yells, and screams!

The dreams of many fades.

No longer at peace, at the mercy of fearsome hordes,

The kingdom begins to rumble.

 

Broken without sympathy the King falls

A token of fate, he had risen to meet his foe.

The Lich, his soul stolen, his husk leading the charge

Calls of resistance, among the walls to push the foul plague

 

Women and children run yet die,

For what lies the fate of after-death is forever marching

The dead rise to meet their ancestors, their keepers

Deeper in the halls of the castle, a champion born.

 

Bang, groan, crack!

The gates pulse and bend

Many soldiers awaiting their well assured end

The Champion rises, a lone light among the ranks.

 

“Heroes and men of God!”

“The throes of war, have locked us here!”

“The legion of bone and slain have arrows and knives! ”

Bang, groan, crack!

 

“Adhere to your teachings and stand!”

Bang, groan, crack!

“The command of God wills it, to stem the flood!”

“Their fangs hunger for your lives! Your Blood!”

 

Bang, Groan, Crack!

“Raise your swords, your shields, your wills, your hope!”

“For we wield our souls, our pulse, our families, our thoughts and lives!”

“Atone, and prepare for the coming trial will surely drag you to hell!”

 

A symphony of swords and roars fill the keep

Bang, groan, crack!

The doors fall, as life and death meet.

The stacking of the toll rises!

 

The champion charges through,

His dance of blades, thrashing and cutting

The Lich overlooks from the wall, His chance just ahead

Bashing the dead he pushes through.

 

The rotted memories of men, women, and children grasp his armor

The leathery dead hands tug and scratch,

He shoves the damned aside,

The war now fought outside.

 

His comrades rally and fight!

The valley of dead pour in nonetheless!

Bless the champion for he stands steadfast.

“Bask in the glory of death, Champion!” The demon cries!

 

Cling and clang, their swords met

A duel of light and dark,

“The fall of life and light has come!” He barked

The stain of undead, grew below

 

“All around the dead rise!”

To the surprise of the champion, this had been true,

the kingdom would crumble, the pestilence would win.

“For the time has come for a world anew!”

 

The Champion of light, crestfallen.

The sea of flesh and bones rise and fall like waves,

The might of apocalypse too much to bare.

He stands, a fresh spirit takes him!

 

“With my God as witness you will not live to see it!”

He throws himself at the black king, blade piercing his noble veil.

The tide of wickedness breaking against the wall below.

As the Champion of light, fades, but so too does the champion of death. Such is the nature, of light, and dark.

Thank you for reading, and have a great day!
Copyright © 2014 crucifixcrusader; All Rights Reserved.
Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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