Dead hands claw at earth’s oppression, shove dirt
from bodies rotted to bone, levered
the remnants of their forgotten spirits
up from yawning graves that death delivered.
Far this cemetery’s blight, all’s cracked
and broken in the world, ’cause balance is
broken, life’s wheel is smashed, nature is backed
in a corner, cowering at the crisis.
‘Till the Guardians ride, their swords raised high,
their helms agleam in fading starlight, their
armor bright in lines they stand, face the eye
of death they do and vanquish its corpse there
at the cemetery gates. To their graves
the dead do flow, for the world’s been saved.
~ ~ ~
This is a scene from the apocalyptic/penultimate battle between the Guardians, the Crownless, the Desparing Ones and the army of the dead the latter two pull together for the affair. Okay enough spoilers for one day.🙂
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Fright Night.”