Before the Gates of Alahsar - Version - 2 - 26
Chapter ..... 3 ..... Part ..... 1.
Now let us return to Alahsar,
let us now see how things truly are,
the plain does grow darker,
the sun seems to be fading away.
Shall it be blotted out forever?
May the time of humans be over?
Only the Gods know the answers,
we shall see what we shall see.
The Dark Man and the Tigress,
they are still within their spearhead,
they are hardly able to move,
their arms are weary with the struggle.
The spearhead does move with the flow of bodies,
the sea of bodies dictating all,
swords and spears stabbing into the enemy,
enemy claws sometimes raking home.
All are ready to fall on their knees,
it seems as if they reach the end of strength,
they struggle to stand erect,
yet to give in there is no thought.
There would be strength for one more attempt,
one more push against the enemy,
Push on to destroy the Arlaghs,
their own pride it could not be broken.
"Walk In The Light!" once more the cry goes out,
May strength come to their prideful hearts,
the rallying cry for one and all,
answered by so many voices.
Now let us see one final push,
let not all be done and ended,
this has to be the make or break,
the life or death of Alahsar.
The spearhead now digs in their feet,
not one more backward step to take,
all spearheads now do the same,
on this patch of ground, they live or die.
Swords and spears are now flashing,
see the speed at which they move,
striking home at a seemingly tireless enemy,
now, this enemy once more does fall.
This most terrifying enemy,
their strength boundless,
they are horrible to behold,
creatures of the hated dark.
Slowly but surely the spearhead does stumble forward,
over the dead that are lying there,
The Arlagh's blood into Badicha flowing,
would ever emerald green come to grow there?
Now the spearheads slay with no mercy,
slay with skill the dark's own,
four hundred yards ahead of the main units,
it seems as if they fight alone.
All spearheads now are pressing forward,
ever moving on, to glory or death,
Against the flow of darkness, they now are pressed,
the iron will is now set.
Utamol is singing his deadly song,
the Dark Man in the heart of his glory,
striking forth with renewed vigour,
death to the enemy his heart's true song.
The Tigress on his left, slaying mercilessly,
this would be the bloodiest of nights.
To Be Continued..........
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