The March at RestWar! A black host marched forth in the summer night.
Black swords and spears, row upon row advanced under a gray charged sky.
A symbol, a standard, the white flame raged above them with glory and madness.
Their stomping feet and hooves kicked up a brilliant silver dust.
It swirled, glistening within their midst, a phosphorescent fog...
...and a high-pitched howling din rung in the wavering air.
Peace! The reflection.
Still Cedar trees stood in silent wisdom.
The black silhouette traced a craggy line in the gray sky.
The air was bursting with the glow of moonbeams.
A radiant sphere poised above it all, a swollen lamp ablaze with a quiet fire...
...And the crickets sang to the flowing waters.
Created by Janna Oakfellow-Pushee at 10-08-08 12:44 PM
Last Modified by Janna Oakfellow-Pushee at 10-08-08 12:44 PM