Here our soldiers stand.
Waiting in a line to hear the battle cry
She is ready to lead her warriors to victory.
Sounds of warcries fill the air in the icy Northrend.
From distant lands, lots of new races are there to ally
This is the place where they will make history.
A history for new generations to remember
An ember in the ashes of dark ages
The time is finally here.

Thousands of undead flow upon her army
She doesn't flinch, while rallying the human flag.
"Freedom is here! It is in our heads and our hearts, Raise your hands for victory is near." She said.
****** battle took place, as the undead warriors decreased faster than her warriors

At the next moment they won, it was a small step for them,
but a giant leap for mankind
Everyone was celebrating...
Then, out of nowhere a traitor stabbed her in the back. She sadly couldn't make it, and she embraced the black. Her sacrifice brought a new page in the history of the kingdom of Agerron.

In the bush
On the stoep
Of a house
In the middle of lions territory

We smoke the magic herb
And discover the fruits
Of youth
Like a midsummernightsdream

The table filled
With empty bottles
We search
For the next

Singing songs
Warcries
Of brotherhood
Like Adam

We find a foundation
On which to build
Like bricks on water
The house of love

Manhood
On fire
Chaos
And

Stability

**** you, your red hair burned my mask
And I'm here as I just bask
At the way I am exactly
The never ending same old me

Overthinking every message
Dissociating every passage
Of time, losing slowly this here mine
Mind and clarity and reason
Autumn is your favourite season
Funny, it started with a rainstorm
Getting my boat off track the shore
I was moving to, **** you
And your fire eyes
They are brown most of the time
But become forests when they cry
Which is often but not too much
The eyelashes are a premium touch
That you cannot afford to lose.

I'm hearing warcries up in here
I'm angry and I can't see clear
Ahead, I think and worry and obsess
Of when you'll answers, make a mess
Of this sense of self I built,
Why don't I just
Allow disgust
Of this old self
Become forgiveness and let it tell
A new story?

One where independency
Freedom and creativity
Some good ol individuality
Let themselves be as they are
And I dont force them to make a scar
On my self, shoulders and back
And get myself tattered and cracked
Over nothing,
Where poetry becomes morphine
What do you mean what do I mean?
It's used potently for numbing.
One where I am and I don't judge
And have some faith and have some trust
And have attraction and have lust
And have virtues and have values
And I talk openly about it
And I don't feel inadequate
Or making myself celibate
Or don't let myself create
Or forget to ask for help
Or I choose to have a friend
Not a promise with no end
Or a game of play-pretend
With myself or with the shelf
Of books I have already read
On how I can just be myself.
In this moment I make them malice,
I have the knowledge but need practice,
Get into my life some mileage
When it comes to discovering
This weird perverse confusing thing
Some others seem to call living.

I don't really know what's next
But I am anchored in myself.
And live life as I can tell
Best for myself.
_M.