Hello again fellows! I'm back and wrote a companion poem (meaning they're related) to my previous one which can be found
God hath willed it, and it shall be done.
Lord! Bless this man on his travels
For this task has stricken me with great miscontent.
Slaying one's brethren, 'tis most troubling for any man.
But the Lord's will must be done.
Upon my steed I go
Hooves soaked in tainted soil
Across lands bubbling with blood
Cursed battlefields, strewn with the dead
I pray for their souls
This stench. This ungodly stench afflicts me
Vultures circle high, incessant cawing troubles me.
Perhaps believing that I am among the dead
In this wasteland; however, nothing lives
It would not be hard to confuse the difference.
There, upon a festering hill
Lie the most unholy of citadels
Surely my timid kin could not bring about such devastation
Not even the wisest king
Could plot about what I see before me.
I am not long now. I will be upon him soon.
Perhaps gold may satiate his blighted hand
He hath been deceived once, he can be again.
Shall I sacrifice my life to save his?
I would do anything to save his poor soul.
No. He must be slain.
I cannot forgive such obliteration.
There, amongst his crumbled streets he walks
"Brother! Your day of reckoning hath come!
I deliver your head to those whom you have betrayed.
May god have mercy on your soul."
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Again feel free to give any suggestions. I'm a bit iffy on this one, so anything would help.God hath willed it, and it shall be done.
Lord! Bless this man on his travels
For this task has stricken me with great miscontent.
Slaying one's brethren, 'tis most troubling for any man.
But the Lord's will must be done.
Upon my steed I go
Hooves soaked in tainted soil
Across lands bubbling with blood
Cursed battlefields, strewn with the dead
I pray for their souls
This stench. This ungodly stench afflicts me
Vultures circle high, incessant cawing troubles me.
Perhaps believing that I am among the dead
In this wasteland; however, nothing lives
It would not be hard to confuse the difference.
There, upon a festering hill
Lie the most unholy of citadels
Surely my timid kin could not bring about such devastation
Not even the wisest king
Could plot about what I see before me.
I am not long now. I will be upon him soon.
Perhaps gold may satiate his blighted hand
He hath been deceived once, he can be again.
Shall I sacrifice my life to save his?
I would do anything to save his poor soul.
No. He must be slain.
I cannot forgive such obliteration.
There, amongst his crumbled streets he walks
"Brother! Your day of reckoning hath come!
I deliver your head to those whom you have betrayed.
May god have mercy on your soul."
