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| The Gift of Death |
"Lordly knight in armour gray, where dost thou
march toward?
With soldiers trailing at your back, as you move
straight onward?"
"These men I lead shall go with me to lands far and
forlorn.
For now they head with me as we shall conquer
Avalon."
The merry man, his wishes and his blessings are
bestowed,
Upon the fair soldiers who march beneath the
shroud,
Of clouds which hide the morning sun to shine upon
the land.
"The citadels of Avalon will crumble by my hand!"
The arching thunder lights the sky, mountains start
to crumble
The heroic knight he marches on, as the clouds
rumble.
His iron will is bound to steel he's aiming for the
crown,
"Fear not men, all will be fine just pray you don't
look down!"
The howling jackals vie for prey as they move in
their packs,
The soldiers' skins looked drier than the dirt stuck
in the crags.
The ravens circled round and round to see who
would drop deap.
To my lord I shall bring him the king of Avalon's
head!
"Ready thy sword and shield, our quest is almost
an end,
This fair Avalon shall be ours so don't turn 'round
now men!"
The angels shed their tears of woe; they fell down as
the rain,
The tears signified that they knew of the oncoming
pain.
"The citadels of Av'lon are ours to take I perceive.
He who takes these citadels, Avalon shall he receive!"
And so raged on the battle for the distant Avalon,
Many surmise that day to be filled with sadness
forlorn.
Blood and blood and nothing more, the battlefield
was ablaze
With crimson flames of blood from men now lying
in their graves
And what of the knight who led them to this ghastly
demise?
He spent the rest of his days with his sanity deprive"
Trapped forever in a shell of guilt, soul long forsaken,
He died in an infernal prison of his own making.
Still Avalon shines so bright, its citadels unconquered,
It's hollow voice calls out to men, its voice not
unanswered.
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| The Gift of Death |
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| The Gift of Death |


