Warriors of the FlameA Poem by Cylis Derrens
Warriors of the Flame
Shields lock
Tightly packed
The ranks set
Their black armor
in the sun
The enemy charges
The warriors brace
Spears pointing out
A wave crashes on
solid plate
The charge is halted
Spears thrust
Men howl
The dying fall
The enemy attacks but
None of the defenders
fall
Protected by solid plate
they push the enemy
back
Against the Warriors of
The Flame none can
stand
Wave after wave breaks
upon their ranks
Crash
Crash
Only to recede in defeat
The enemy withdraws from
the field
The defenders have won
The enemy dead are buried
and honored
They are not left to rot in the
sun
The warriors rest
Not one is bleeding
They are the Som Ros
The army of the few and chosen
The Emperor’s own
© 2008 Cylis DerrensAuthor's Note
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