From sleep to nightmare dragged by Captain’s calls.
Perched on thrones of banner and rusted pike.
Watching distant throngs and nearer foes alike.
Standing that this fair city never falls,
Though ravenous black beasts covet these halls.
Our remnant ranks, well torn, repel each strike.
Stone eyes stand between loved ones and spike.
We wait out morning atop smoke charred walls.
Once more they reel and beat upon this rock.
Each man to arms and armor weary go.
Cold sun in sky falls fast, our fate to mock.
Not long ‘fore this desperate high fight falls low.
Unknown to us there move traitors within,
Who whisper pale secrets to save their skin.
(I get a little adrenaline rush every time I read this one.)
Digital Exile 