The Legionnaire
He stood like a statue
A God among men
His nerves like iron
Unable to upend
His skin worn like ancient leather
His eyes like arrow points
Body battered by the weather
With echoes of war resting in his joints
Demanding nothing less than total dedication
For the price of defeat was the forfeit of the nation
The tyrannical crown bane of their existence
The origin of the emphatic resistance
A Batallia of kingsmen sat opposite the way
For the fortunes of many were sealed that day
How the blood shall soon stain the gentle flowers of May
Alas, for the price of freedom be there no other way
He turned to his own, addressing his men
For many he shan’t ever speak to again
The emotions bubbled inside, they came and they went
Cherishing final moments, for the time had been spent
“Brothers,” he shouted “Hear my voice.”
“all be here due to nothing but personal choice”
“Our deeds here today shall be immortalized in stone”
“The odds may be bleak, but I shan’t face them alone”
“We fight for our children, asleep home in their beds”
“We fight for our forefathers, that for this opportunity they bled”
“We fight for our Comrades who hath stained the fields red”
“The time is upon us”
“May our actions be sound”
“May our blades remain sharp”
“May we intern them into this hallowed ground”
He charged with Brothers
Sword and Shield in hand
If War was an Art then Brushes be their hand
The battle was won
He fallen victim to the fray
Still they sing songs of his deeds to this day