The Devout

Where Gales Veiled the Moon

The Devout


The redolence of nightfall hanging in the air 
The rain dripping off their tangled hair 
Later this night it would be blood 
As the eerie sound of the horn fed the rising storm 

Under the cloud covered moon they rode to battle 
To a desperate dark with no horizon 
Hundreds of flags waving in the wind 
Restless shapes awaiting the call 

The sea of swords rose into the air 
Their final warcry echoed through the skies 
A tempest unleashed as the clouds burst 
And their rising surge about to wreathe all 

A thousand slayers raging on the battlefield 
Eternal felt the burden they had to bear 
Triumph for the lost ideal their deeds had sealed