From the open dune in a sea of red,
Barren that forms where dangers dread.
The weak shall fade, the strong shall rise,
Such dangerous field on white, mourning skies.
Yet beside the dead, life prevail,
Men of steel they ride the vale.
A line of blood to cement their stand,
Against to those that raid their land.
On crimson rocks, like beacons to guide,
A throng of thieves to take and side.
Thieves of kings with open embrace,
To deny those claim with a hidden face.
For the drowsy snake, buried beneath the dust,
Venom and fangs they spring if they must.
The sands of time belongs to the men,
Arduous folk, cloak in black since when.
Art: Red by rossdraws
Music: Empire Rise by SmokeAvery
Experiment with Words 