Thousandfold

Sprinkled by the trappings

Of words that make the outlines

Blur on the showplace of made history

The Folk is willed

To parrot the dished up tale

The lure of a higher meaning

Cheat you had to create

An enemy stereotype

To receive your absolution

A frothy poor excuse for your foray

To disengage from the deeps

Of your encumbrance

Behold

All our gold

Thousandfold

Bereave me!

Declined

Truths ensign

Forever mine!

Bereave me!

March in with ten legions

Whilst the crucial weapon's not the pillum

But the feather held in your hand

Penned in blood

Your tall-tales rule the forum

Altering it into the battlefield

I

the spectral guise

Evoking these baring fears

Pestering your conscript fathers

I smile at my demise and while I die

I cherish the roots of my perseverance