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8.

As the people, sadly, walk through the gates,
they firstly bow before Turvehr, their honour dictates,
honour is shown to the Dark man, 
whose great glory known, before coming of man.
The history, the mystery, 
the great glory, a never-ending story,
the dark ways, within those early days,
the horrors seen, they were no dream.

Athena, still holding the Tigress' hand,
together, by Turvehr, they both do stand,
the Tigress still standing with head held low,
Athena, her head high, her eyes aglow.
The people bow and through the gates do go,
each of them moving very slow,
their agony, it resonates,
before these mighty golden gates.

within these gates, a mighty bell does toll,
the boom does resonate inside each soul,
the thunder now crashes within the sky,
the storms own, releasing, their mournful cry.
Mournful the people, now within,
souls are mourning, weeping does begin,
no longer, the crowd, a mighty sea,
it thins to a trickling memory.

Now the storm is clammering,
the thunder is a-hammering,
lightning flashing, blinding light,
this storm is such an awesome sight.
Yet still, the people slowly walk,
they look not at storm, they do not talk,
still, they bow and walk inside,
no longer, pain, they try to hide.

Between storm and bell, sound abounding,
louder, louder, agony resounding,
pain upon each face you see,
residing in each memory.
Then Athena, from the Tigress, walks away,
walks to her golden chariot, in silent sorrow she does pray,
her warriors now are walking, all across the plain,
waiting for their queen, to take them home again.

The Tigress, she does now lift up her head,
her temple is a storm, her heart feels dead,
then Turvehr does slowly back away,
the storm awaits the end of the day.
Turvehr bolts free, across the plain,
soon he shall be home again,
Athena, driving her chariot on,
the red day is done, she must be gone.

Heaven's own advance across the plain,
all are heading home again,
some mortal souls they still look on,
watching immortals, now marching strong.
Turvehr, now does lead them on,
mighty Unicorn before the throng,
Dark Man still, is sitting there,
his life is gone, he has no care.

Now all mortals are within the great gates
all are in such dreadful states,
yet they climb up stairs a-plenty,
but few to start, now there are many.
The Tigress in her place again,
her tears are falling, like the rain,
memories of love, run through her brain,
as she listens to love's own refrain.........

To Be Continued.
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