Ode To An Embattled Race

by: Jake Arminius | Published: December 28, 2015

The Hordes have come
Defenders and patriots
Are once again called
For Nation and Kin
Need your sword and shield

Traitors and the weak
Rule the roost
With forked tongues and slippery words
The sheep are guiled

Suicidal ideologies are the meat
Eaten by the masses
Spoiled, rotten, wormed
Have become their minds
Sapping strength from arm and soul

The ink of history writes
Her fickle annuals
As the sentences unfold
Blood of our ancestors
Are written anew

Will the saga of a new dawn
Shine forth
Or an ancient darkness
Envelope the land?

Folk, we have a choice
Folk, you have a divine heritage
Folk, we have won before

Tales of heroes
Need to be retold
Women and children gathered
Around the campfire
Arms of men wrapped around
Their shoulders

Listen to your bard
Watch the flames flicker
Feel the blood of your ancestors
Remember through your veins
Of glory gone by

Write, sing, dance
Current deeds
As God watches and smiles
His armour and sword will
Imbue those called
Generations will need the annuals
Of heroes and ladies

Of great deeds and great words
A lyre around the fire
To dance and sing
Our victories

From the clay we
Were molded
From a divine image
Our likeness is mirrored
Marching through the ages of time
Our achievements are etched in stone

Poet and scholar inspired
Bard and dancer weave the tapestry
Where our footprints are
Greatness pools

Yet, the race sleeps
A deep slumber
Roosters crowing
Brings few awake

Slowly the Titans will rise
Stretching their bones
Vestiages of dream burned away
By eyes of fire
A few left of a diminishing race
Have a big task
Daunting and monumental it may seem

Just remember folk
Same blood of those with
A same struggle
Raised their flags
Upon hallowed ground

With pen and steel
With torch and voice
We shall fight
All discourse and patience
Exhausted and spent
Upon deaf ears and raised fist
They were shattered
Open hands we offered
A righteous peaceful way
We taught
Sneers and mockery given
In return

Well, as it may be
So it shall be
The Serpents hiss and strike
Venom is their blood
Darkness their soul
A world gone mad
Turns against us
Not knowing the mud we
Raised it from

Remember us, although
You may not understand
Later you shall
We shall be back
As a Phoenix rises
When we are needed
As we always have

Tags: Poetry, BattleCry

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