At the dawn

12.07.07

After crimson summer dawn
Everyone is heard to pray—
E’en severe king on throne
Whisper’th oath in dismay.

He believeth that his pride
Shall strength his army in their souls…
Virtue of a crowned wight
Never maketh wonders, though.

At the boundless darken’d field
Brave division standeth still.
They don’t know who shall be kill’d
At the moment o’great thrill.

Army waiteth for the fight.
Enemies’ division creep’th.
Sky is blacken’d like at night—
Sun hath faded to eclipse.

“Sun is sleeping, ‘tis a curse!”
“Aye, ‘tis omen of our bane!”
Warriors believe in force
Saving from the burning pain.

Fight begineth. They attack.
First wounds. First victims. First decays.
Sword in heart and spear in neck.
Hardly heard moans of dismays.

Bodkin pierceth warrior’s chest—
Gore incarnadineth fell.
He breatheth out , arising crest:
“Shall I redeem my sins in hell?”

King’s Army is now mortified,
That shameful failure is the worm,
Eating his cling’d heart in fright
Under full of mourning dome.

Gall of overthrow hath brought
Sorrow to medieval town.
Those who for Kind have wrought
Are deeply laid to dark wet ground.

O Thou, hearken me to pray!
I prithee, forgive their sins!
And open, Lord, Thy Holy gate
To Paradise of their dreams…