About half past noon,

Before I

Climbed through that

Door of your's,

Events beyond our control

Forced their way through

Gateways to other

Homelands.

 

I sat,

Just waiting,

Keeping watch,

Lest our forces

Managed to

Not lose ground

Over the

Pock-marked field.

 

Quests had failed,

Returning warriors

Stayed away,

Turning their backs from

Uniting against

Vessels of destruction.

 

Without us,

Xenophobia would have

Yielded to the danger

Zone.