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Literature Text
With winged flight,
I take to the air.
I soar high above,
without so much a care.
With beaming light,
and rays of sunshine,
I do now serve;
Golden throne, immemorial.
Unvanquished and forever;
I lay upon this rock;
My faith unshaken,
Until I heard Anothers words.
Small and unclean,
without wings,
without grace,
They walk on Earth;
An Earth now cursed.
I see them warring,
I see them screaming;
Burning each other aflame;
I tremble on my stone.
Slowly still;
my unrest grows
into deep affliction.
For I care now;
What will become of us?
At once at this behest;
I hear the trumpet sound.
A great and terrible call;
To arms us mighty with despair.
To slay our children;
We must fight.
To stay their hand,
upon which they deliver blight
to our good green earth.
The chords are struck;
The tune is heard.
from solid rock
to ocean swell,
They tremble before the sound;
The sound of thunder.
Drums;
and a Pale Horse.
Upon landfall hour,
we striketh fast and swift.
Unstoppable, we march,
forward into dawn.
As if rallied by their doom;
they draw string,
and play ill their tune.
At once the arrows fly;
To great are the numbers that die.
Our ranks are broken;
Our wings are spent.
We cared too much,
for the command above,
Has only now forsaken us.
Still we press forward;
There is no retreat.
We come from Fire;
And to fire we shall return.
Without a care in the world.
I take to the air.
I soar high above,
without so much a care.
With beaming light,
and rays of sunshine,
I do now serve;
Golden throne, immemorial.
Unvanquished and forever;
I lay upon this rock;
My faith unshaken,
Until I heard Anothers words.
Small and unclean,
without wings,
without grace,
They walk on Earth;
An Earth now cursed.
I see them warring,
I see them screaming;
Burning each other aflame;
I tremble on my stone.
Slowly still;
my unrest grows
into deep affliction.
For I care now;
What will become of us?
At once at this behest;
I hear the trumpet sound.
A great and terrible call;
To arms us mighty with despair.
To slay our children;
We must fight.
To stay their hand,
upon which they deliver blight
to our good green earth.
The chords are struck;
The tune is heard.
from solid rock
to ocean swell,
They tremble before the sound;
The sound of thunder.
Drums;
and a Pale Horse.
Upon landfall hour,
we striketh fast and swift.
Unstoppable, we march,
forward into dawn.
As if rallied by their doom;
they draw string,
and play ill their tune.
At once the arrows fly;
To great are the numbers that die.
Our ranks are broken;
Our wings are spent.
We cared too much,
for the command above,
Has only now forsaken us.
Still we press forward;
There is no retreat.
We come from Fire;
And to fire we shall return.
Without a care in the world.
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Comments3
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Woah...
That was epic. I can't believe you got that out of the story!
That was epic. I can't believe you got that out of the story!