As I stood upon the brink of war
Darkness consumed the breath of day
And despite all of spring’s budding rays
Death and decay howled all the more

In pits of fire and charred hell-broth
Demons grim and cruel gather at the Gate
Holding swords with angry fists as they wait
To unleash the horrors held long in thought

The World stood powerless against the Fell
And bowed to their jade-eyed gods for peace
Or knelt towards Mecca, in the sunny east
But no prayer could halt the fiends of Hell

And when the Dawn first grazed Earth’s gentle breast
Man did cry, skies burned, demons beat their chests
The Gate was opened.

March 14, 2003

This entry was posted in Sonnets.

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