Feast

As I walk down the hall of thorns, I hear the ancestors of the Lost Kingdom in mourn. Ten thousand souls stand alone, on top of crushed bloody bones. I walk alone in an empty room, no stars, no moon. I stand alone with ten thousand souls at my back, we gone to far to turn from black. Birds stop chirping, demons stop lurking. The audience is filled, gods from all type of race, have come to see there morning kill, they deny grace. A hush all over, the introduction is over. Swords are drawn, the sun has come to bring our daily dawn. But where is light may there shadows, darkness's tongue rattles. No time for fear, for that comes later. No room for sadness, for that is a crater. No time for weakness, for that has no factor. The moon fades, she rather watch in the shade. I raised my sword in silence, ten thousand souls ready to commence in violence. 

The roar of lion awaits in our lungs, the time has come. We move quick, as we are thick. The enemy is unaware, ten thousand souls are all rare. The sword come down, like rain trickling down.  The green pasture now covered with red plaster. It's a disaster, but I reign as master. The iron taste of blood, fills my mouth like a great flood. I look upon my enemy. A lion with with David on its forehead, my sword wiped clean now covered in red. I hang lions head on a mantle, so the gods can see the army I have trampled. The moon didn't shine, she would have cried to see the blood on me none of which was mine. I stare up in darkness, far from anyone who can witness. Far for the least,  I say

"Go tell King David that beast has had his feast."