grim vigil
A quenching emperor stands bleak -
Spear of family to a mountain's peak,
As snow pales the leader's cold cheek.
Amid the harsh undead view,
Lay a triumphing army's red hue,
marching to a standpoint's blue,
Their bloodthirst had really grew.
But the troopers remain unfazed;
this is how their mothers raised -
for no tears even when blazed;
they never ever came praised.
The legionary entered hearts,
sharp in the middle - no darts,
leaving organs to miniscule parts -
the art of war were their smarts.
The dead perched o' so glad,
fuming smoke in the air so mad -
grinding their canines very unclad,
the remorse was only so much-so tad.
ashen egret
marble mural