Threshold


Horses wince at the splatter of pleas,
Preying upon their tangled manes.
Knights of glittering armour,
prevail their steeds with a commanding heave.
At battle's eve their swords gleam,
onto the voice of a victim's scream.
Esteem dwindles as the mist clears,
a wave of a shattered dream appears.
Marching one by one,
they redeem a time that was once dear.
It grows near,
shining into the grim river of a balladeers tears.
Her song glares into battle,
all-time standing adheres to the field.
A lonesome shadow interferes,
when the rummaging of soldiers asteer.
He stalks on a ruined frontier with a sneer.
His preserver pilots the endless despair.
Faces of sear loom to him with diminishing fear.
A surge of sheer sincere cleaning the figures premier.

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