THE END OF THE BEGINNING ...
by Rosi Isor
The leaves, still wet with morning dew,
The sky, a slightly paler blue,
The world has seemed to start anew.
The sounds of roosters in the clear,
The sounds of battle drawing near,
The black of night whispers in your ear.
The soldiers never sheathe their swords,
And as you cry, you hear the words
Of old, forgotten, magick lords.
They tell you not to fear the end,
They tell you you can still begin,
And don't dwell on what might have been.
You see a light
Of astonishing sight,
And suddenly, you're free of fright!
Glad that your soul wasn't taken.
You step aside,
Fears set aside,
As the last two soldiers...