The Last March
by: Jeremy Essen
Scores of men fight with bloodlust and rage
Turning to the next man, immortalizing him on page
Arrow and Spear soar
As man and catapult roar.
A weary King watches his men relentlessly deployed
For the enemy must be destroyed.
Into the battle of a Thousand Souls, they march.
“Volley the arrows!” a relayed order on the line.
Bows are strung with sinew and twine.
The whispers die and quiet is the word.
But in the silence one fouled voice can be heard.
“Let the gray geese fly!”
The men watch as the enemy slowly dies.
Into the battle of a Thousand Souls, they march.
Death Machines churn and snarl at the approaching men
Some will never see their wives again.
“Ready the horsemen!” cry the soldiers
Mail and armor crinkle as the brave few are holstered.
Horses snort in disciplined anticipation
As knights prepare for their participation.
“Charge!”
Into the battle of a Thousand Souls, they march.
Thundering hooves and battles cries of many houses fill the air
Nowhere to turn, but to what is there.
Many fall to the hand of the enemy
But none ever retreat.
Into the battle of a Thousand Souls, they marched.
