Awake once more
Upon moonlit shores,
The eclipse is
Suffocating,

Stood lost in thought
The star light is caught,
In nets of
Captivation.

Tracing lines in the sky
Wondering why,
We're objects of
Subjugation.

All just a lie,
Always a lie that
Justifies vindication

Come sit! Let us set the world to rights!
While basking in the pale Androidian Light,
Lamenting the plights and strife of others,

"Another Whiskey?"

"Well, if it's no bother"

Raw spirit in our hands,
Raw thoughts and naive plans,
Admirable, worthy
Yet all go the way of sand.
Blown across the desert landscape
Captive of the winds command.

The treeline stands as sentinels,
Offering crowns to the crescent moon.
The rooted column of soldiers
Witness the slender shadow as it grew.
A thumb sized fairy in its hand,
Bent double to whisper tidings
Of human flesh on sacred land.
That which is sacrosanct
Can not so easily be swayed!
As all the beasts of myth and nightmares
Charge on into the fray.

The knight finished taking a **** against the tavern wall,
The last defence of the realm, children and us all.

Well.....

That and trebuchets,

Spears,

Swords.

All the tools of war.

Far beyond the Forrest front
Pride, The Lord of Man
Forges ill thought plans
Lazily playing chess, cavalier
With the lives of pawns.
Thoughtlessly moving pieces with
Trembling blood stained hands.

Tiny flame huddled close to fading wick,
A rag doll seized in the fist of a tempest.
Fading quick,
Wax molten in our grip.
Burning, viscous through trembling fingers it slips.
Knuckles crack like the fire in the hearth
Consuming logs uprooted from the earth
Giving birth to each ember on the mantle,
Dancing decay around subdued bowing candles.

Crying white tears upon the silent tables
The evening sneers at hush filled fables.
Horses bray in solemn stables
Dreaming of pastures new,
Wick snuffed out by daylights fingers
Flame made still by the morning dew.

We ride in on night winged eagles
Three harbingers of fate.
Circling over the city of the dead
We land awkwardly at the gate.
Trudging through the streets of mist
Treading on cobbled hopes,
Gathering jackets close
We barge through crowds of ghosts.

Three wise men, with nothing much to say.
Gather round in the rain by the side of the Grave.
Bringing the gift of silence,
Golden memories and mirth.
The city takes another back into the earth.
The rain starts to lighten, a feint mist
Over fresh turned turf.
The burden is lightened
The journey back is not so tough.
Even the city of the dead is filled
With towers of love.