He said what he had said before,
A nose not stranger to bloodiest gore,
Turned a hand to beckon closed door,
Locked and barred bendwise and hammered,
By the eyes of many battles.
They simmered with experience, drew a handbook out,
Laid before them as such options were plentiful,
Should these street hooligans, singing and playing for free,
Prove to be sorest enemy, agents of Toblin's freshly minted son.
Still hot and brash from command's ascent.
Prienne's mind wasn't one to be weighed by age alone,
His talents lead chessmasters to weeping chambers,
He'd dine at dinner wearing a bib of success,
No challengers exist for my skills to test,
A fact he had to acquiesce.
Savoring the sounds of old crones and men alike,
Unaccustomed to losing control of the light,
A candle lit as sole companion, they'd given life to master,
An art he merely dabbled triumphantly.

Richard played his violin.
Softly granting music place,
It calmed his nerves, made anxiety hide.
Where war raged, song assuaged.
John's axe tinged an affirmation,
As did Kevin's righteous sword,
Albert strummed a longing chord,
Wishing to be a beloved singularity,
Betwixt Christopher and Richard playing mirthfully,
Admist a crowd of lightened hearts,
Those centermost melodies freed from fear,
Would dance around an apple tree,
Composed of just us three.

They were offered seats but chose to stand,
Each musician stopped playing, setting their instruments down,
Each singer cleared their throats and revealed their weapons for all to see,
Placing each up against a wall,
Rick made haste to the northern window overlooking the bailey,
Common folk scurried through musical rifts easily punctured,
Sharin taught him to watch life's song through gifted eyes,
Only he could see fate unfolding as past decisions morphed into consequences,
Though one could hedge themselves against wasteful inaction, unforseen frailties,
Could always manifest to dash well laid plans, he'd wanted to be a natural archer,
But his hands failed him in this request, sickness had run down to his four extremities,
Hopeful medicine did naught to save him, that is when song stepped in.
She said she refused to allow him to die so young, useless and dispirited,
So she inscribed dual songs of ability where there was none, taught him to carry a tune in his head.
Intense mental training allowed his mind to move deadened flesh,
Nerves that could no longer receive organic messages could now move themselves,
Legs and feet could travel across terrain while his hands could grasp once more,
The hands of a girl he fancied, her innocence and priorities pulled away from him,
Carol I'll break you free if I have to do so with my death...
Should Rick test desire against conscience, he could pinpoint their core melodies,
And bring about their silence.

A gentle knock at his door,
As two escorts followed doggedly,
John turned the **** and walked into,
Cornelius's study, a room he only frequented,
When injury had befallen him or he needed to,
Escape emotional stress or old ghosts.
More times than he cares to admit,
Has this man kneeled before dying allies,
People of all stages, slipping beneath the black.
Those he should've been there for, could've saved if,
His justice was only faster than song, swifter than Venom.
Sharin's adept stood silently wrapped in respect,
Cornelius turned to face them, taking off his reading glasses,
A brown bearskin coat reassured him as he rose, sinking both arms inside,
He faced his audience with a stern, confident soldier's facade, one that,
Demanded recognition from all around.

John shortened his name for the occasion,
Removed his axe's scowl, replacing it with glimmering smile.
Songforged steel given the humming heartbeat of Sharin,
Filled the staircase leading to Cornelius's study,
With the subtle suggestion of song to come.
Kevin kept his throat clear and ready,
On a Kiligrind he'd let loose a melody,
To push back the ill-intent of a would be assailant,
Freeing his person to gauge the best way forward,
Towards effective retaliation.
Paul placed his hands around his Pole-arm's direction,
Keeping it bend-wise between his path and place,
Gloves given by choices made to acquire,
Gripped granted wood, knowing its holy place was still safe,
An area where silent rhymes still soothed his mind,
He knew without knowing, felt without feeling that,
Sharin is sleeping well today...

Johnathan stepped first onto stairs,
Built to lift those below to status above,
Looming over a desperate campaign given form,
From hope shed a chance for more,
Stone sourced from many perils,
Donated in secret from those still leashed to slavery,
It was determined that Rick stand at last back.
To glimpse at tragedy's finale opportune moment.
It was a hastily constructed, mixed kingdom of ragged stone,
Colors arranged without taste or fashion, since neither is practical,
In times of war.

At the keep where he was kept,
Sleeping awake above books of little interest,
Cornelius had his guards welcome old friends,
To stand within his company.
Red was reinforced by blackened scales,
Of halting persuasion, no blade could cross,
Bend-wise, down, left or right,
Only forward against advance,
Would blows receive that which was kept,
Inside their insistence that,
Mankind's destiny not bow.
Before the command of Song or Venom.
A closed decision, offered no openings.
Slammed shut vapid covers, returned to shelves installed by father.
The scholar king, it was said he was the most well-read Farth of all time,
Far from me to judge a man whose charisma rallied freedom to blossom,
In fields of comfortable servitude, against his cruel edict, abuse was accepted,
Even loved before its passing from this world, the light stung, the darkness comforted,
Daytime's burning insults.