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Aidan Taylor Jul 2020
Silver beams of moonlight,
Pierce the starry night,
The sun has gone to sleep,
As the Watchman prepares to fight,
Behind the Southern Mountains,
A storm begins to brew,
The darkened clouds roll over,
And the ocean is no longer blue.
The Watchman is free of slumber,
As he looks upon the land,
He holds their destiny in his palm,
As it crumbles in his hand,
No one dares to combat him,
Of equals there are but few,
They live faraway in distant lands,
Near where the Pheonix flew.
One step it takes for him to cross,
From the Rolling Valley to River Dry,
And far above the sleeping bodies,
Sit the scornful Watchman’s eyes,
With each step the Earth will tremor,
And shake the huts below,
The plants they droop in bleeding sorrow,
As they can no longer grow.
He lets out a booming laugh,
That parts the darkened clouds,
As he thinks of his growing power,
That makes the Heavens shroud,
But in the distance a call is heard,
That mutes the Watchman’s laugh,
Upon a silver horse he rides,
The Chevalier splits the night in half.

Galloping through the ocean breeze,
The Chevalier quickly approaches,
Towards the mighty Watchman’s land,
On the darkness sunlight encroaches.
For this day the Watchman waited,
To fight off he who wants his throne,
This land is for him to own,
The battle horn has now been blown.
Down below the people rise,
From their slumber they awake,
And head outside into the street,
To see what will be their fate.
Rising above the rocky hill,
Appears a foreign man,
Perhaps he’s come to set them free,
And save them from the old Watchman.
The Chevalier is now upon them,
Pulling his horse to cease his run,
I’m here to save the village people,
But a reply he got but none.
Instead the Watchman cocked his head,
And screamed into the sky,
Do not threaten me now Horseman,
Or I’ll bury you in River Dry.
Blinded by his arrogance,
The Watchman failed to see,
The Chevalier draw his bow and arrow,
And plunge it in his knee.
Upon the Southern Mountains,
The Watchman slowly fell,
His body turned to Ashes,
And loudly rung the death bell.

Be gone my sweet People,
All People young and old,
Escape this wretched wasteland,
And free your desperate souls.
You’re no longer bound by his watch,
So seek another land,
Follow your heart and fill its desires,
And your life will be so grand.

— The End —