Imperator

1

Imperator

A coven of witches and murder of ravens
At the Remington of our last Absolution
For the black waves of despair have reached the heavens
And we stand at the tide’s turning, intuition–

–now guides us, not reason, but gut of will power
Caesar rises among us, in black call to arms
If we are to live as Wolves, Knights, and not cower–
–before the will of the world, learn to love sword’s charms

Men of the Hearth, Men of the West, the time is short
We have not the luxury of celebration
For the Oneness will rally, strike again, cohort
If we wish to salvage the rule of the Nation

Make haste, fight now, take no prisoners, be swift, cold
Let our thrust be like the strike of an Eagle, Bold.

January 23, 2017 – on the Eve of the Fourth day

1 Comment
  1. Andy Bachman says

    Majestic poem.

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