The Clash of Iron and Bone

In the shadowed heart of ancient lands,

Where banners fluttered like desperate prayers,

A battle raged—a symphony of steel,

And horror danced upon the bloodied fields.

I. The Gathering Storm

The sun, a reluctant witness, dipped low,

Casting long shadows upon the dew-kissed grass.

Warriors clad in tarnished armor assembled,

Their breaths a chorus of anticipation.

*The Knight*:

- His visor down, eyes aflame with purpose,

- A relic of honor, to be stained with dread.

- His sword, to bear the weight of countless lives.

*The Archer*:

- Fingers trembling, he nocked his arrow,

- Whispering prayers to forgotten gods.

- His quiver held both salvation and damnation.

*The Foot Soldier*: - Mud-caked boots, aching shoulders,

- He clutched his spear, a splintered hope.

- His wife's face haunted his every step.

II. The Clash of Iron and Bone

The trumpet's mournful wail shattered silence,

And the earth trembled—a beast awakening.

The enemy surged forth—a tide of rage,

Their eyes hollow, souls already lost.

*The Glorious Charge*:

- Hooves thundered, knights atop steeds,

- Lances leveled, seeking hearts to pierce.

- The ground churned, swallowing screams.

*The Battle Cry*:

- Shields clashed, swords sang their cruel ballad,

- Helmets split, revealing terror-stricken eyes.

- Blood sprayed like crimson confessions.

III. The Horror Unleashed

*The Butchered Innocence*:

- Children huddled in thatched cottages,

- Their laughter silenced by the war's cruel embrace.

- Innocence severed, dreams buried in the mud.

*The Wounded Earth*:

- Fields wept red tears, soil soaked,

- Swallowing corpses, both friend and foe.

- Flowers bloomed upon the fallen, mocking life.

*The Raven's Feast*:

- Carrion birds circled, hungry for despair,

- Pecking at eyes, feasting on broken dreams.

- Death's banquet—an unholy communion.

IV. The Aftermath

As dusk settled, survivors wandered—shells of men,

Their limbs heavy with grief, hearts scarred.

The moon bore witness to the horror,

Its silver gaze indifferent, unyielding.

*The Knight's Lament*:

- He knelt among the fallen, armor rusted,

- Tears mingling with blood, a bitter sacrament.

- Victory tasted like ashes on his tongue.

*The Archer's Regret*:

- His bow lay discarded, snapped like hope,

- The sky wept, mirroring his shattered soul.

- Each arrow had a name—a requiem unsung.

*The Foot Soldier's Prayer*:

- He traced his wife's name in the mud,

- Promised her vengeance, whispered love.

And so, the bloodied fields bore witness,

To valor, horror, and the fragile thread of humanity.

In the annals of time, they became ghosts,

Their stories etched upon the blade of fate.

-Lord Conejoh