Thursday, April 19, 2007

Daily Dime: Epic Poem

For information on the Daily Dime and those that contribute, hit this: http://dailydime.ning.com/


-------------

And then I saw an army
Great and vast
Descendant from the sky
Split from the earth
Hewn from the seas
And the fire
An army so terrible
That none shall bend its knee
Or crush its head
An army so mighty
That it shall certainly prevail

The army was a mystery
None can fathom nor
Understand it
Appearing from nothing
As though it never was
Its members comprised of
The dead, and those
Living, but believing the lie
Of death, taking a dark doctrine
From the unknown places.

Emergent from the seas
Descendants from the air
Out of the rocks and caves
And down from the high places
The army swept across the
Surface of all the Earth
No city can stand against this army
All the palaces of men fall
All the armies of man are useless
And all the weapons without purpose

Plagues devastated the planet
Afflicting the scattered family of man
No medicine eased their suffering
No treatment could imporve
the impoverished state of man
Army and plague alike
Continued their onslaught
The family of man is brought
To a lowly estate:
They face extinction

When man at their worst
And the army its peak
An innumerable host
Fashioned of light appears
From the dawn
And through the night they come
Bringing with them blessings
For the family of man
Sight with which to see
And weapons with which to fight

Men gather around the host
Those that are left surrendering
To the host of light
The host brings gifts
Of knowledge, wisdom, and fight
But they themselves
Unable to enter confrontation
With creatures of night
It is for them
Man will fight

With both wisdom
And tactics new
Man fights against the army
Ten years of plague and war
Come to an end
Knowledge and weapons in human hand
The onslaught subsides
And the tables turn
The darkest horde
The host blade cannot abide

Finally, after the ten years
Plague and army gone
With a job well done
The host also gone
Each man with
Emptiness as his lot
Must rebuild that great estate
With a soil of desolation
They must work a crop
And yield a harvest of riches

These words spoken
To me through the cracks of time
And in man's dreams
The army comes
So make haste
And make ready.

1 comment:

Todd Newton said...

That is freaking awesome. Loved it.