Battle

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Battle

A Poem

A lone night on a skyward stair,
Through snow chill of mountain air,
A company of hero-wills marched,
The demon trails in stealth watched.

Their gaunt visage like Shiva’s hordes,
To enemy a ruinous death forebodes.
Into a lair they walked of forked tongues,
A cantankerous heart and mind of harangues.

There they stood night sky for canopy,
A welter of storms and barbarous company.
A moan and roar of angered demons
Leapt on them with barbed irons.

The trickster’s deadly ruse did wake,
Dormant hero-force this gambit to take. 
A war-cry climbed to snowy Kailash’s peak,
A whiplash force unleashed like a lightning streak.

Limb tore limb, the crunch of force on bone,
With blood and life a sacrifice for war done. 
Drenched was the Goddess, of skull and sickle,
With crimson sap appeased roared her approval.

Hearken men of vast Arya lands
Don your armours, hymns in minds.
The Mother arrives, no weakness may remain,
Time for war and slaying arms that never refrain.

Impatient with too much peace She is,
Will not confer to debased enemy her truce. 
Battle She wants, battle She gets,
A spectacle She’ll unleash none ever forgets.