Middle Ages

M anors towering Over the horizon Western skies ablazon With majesty possessing. E arth trodden soil Bearing feet of noble birth Tramping blades of aged turf, Hearts destined to inner turmoil. D anger lurking in Shadows of the silent souls: Smoldering, burning coals Leaving scares of ashes within. I nsightful minds too Rare to locate in this time, Appearing so sublime Their radiant light shining through. E vening abbey bells Sound the coming jubilee, To mass we grandly flee The Sabbath day the priest foretells. V iking raiders come Arriving by the ocean, Longboats sail in motion, Stealthy in their horrible glum. A rmies marching near Pillaging every city Sorrow filled with pity, Echoing cries of solemn fear. L aughing now has ceased Only silence here to reign With nothing left to gain So many loved ones now deceased. T ime is ticking to A close, another plunder Resounds like dark thunder Beckoning to “The Red” anew. I nto the misty, Frosty air of the midnight Eric leads the new fight Away from the ruins gritty. M an after man of Norsemen racing to the west Shouting cries of the beast Charging towards the mountains above. E arly morning now Is here, but the Viking king Is nowhere to be seen He has fled after half a bow. S ilent knights stand tall For they have fended the Scoundrel attack; they see New rays of hope starting to call “Long live Christ Jesus, Savior of us all!”