Best Battlement Poems
Better to be bold in battle
then benign in retreat!
No victory comes from actions prattle;
May honor be found in refusing defeat -
My vaults will not be breeched
by faults,
may we have a merry waltz
devoid of all unsavory salts,
this of you I have beseeched -
On this table we have met to render fable
rich as ancient Babyl,
heralds of ancestral heros and our forces' label,
bulwarks raised above this field's haze, stalwart gaurds strong and poised,
daunting sounds of ritual carols, the primal ones that spirits praise,
what is this match but a moment for atonement,
trite tribute and humble homage if you wicked will foment,
my battalions and I are stolid, faithful, our souls not being rent,
the birds in sky like personal medallions signify for we, victory is meant,
in the center sentries stood,subterfuge, lethal blows I knew you would,
a Queen as envoy repelled rudely, religiously crude as you brood,
armistice you will seek knowing bleak the future be,
like battered egos quiet speak,loosing strength,you shall weep and sneek
to snatch the proud prey from eagle's beak, your pommel being sweaty sleek,
terrified of the Promeathean peak, of my glory you may peek,
The mellow march of my bagpipes,a pallid pitch that makes men creep
they like leary sheep my wolves will eat,
must you trust a God of glutton lust,and savor his decree,
of Athena I have asked,athwart this army made by brass,
as broken glass shattered fast it shall yeild to Her Mass,
shaken soldiers running past, your eyes will cry the slaughters vast,
pray not in vain to block our rasp, or for this fauna you'll be mast,
my blood as Emperor say you crave, oh how brave,
like a slave made the day his grave was paved,
such a man is never saved,
J.A.B. Part One -
A pawn for a pawn, a crown to crown,
whom is Master of this Lodge in town,
this I enquire while preparing the pyre for you to retire,
my meddlesome mobility unabated, indicative of a congenital nobility,
configured to coral this clambering caravan of corrupted cargo,
like a sqaulid sailing ship mired by a dragging anchor
I will be the insensitive squall that screams and squashes
your spirit's resolve for immortality to which you aspire,
by necessity, your pirate army pines to encroach this backline of mine,
alert for advantage like hyenas on high ground,
but when the men turn round with countenances of lost children,
then the lead you must take and oasis forgo,
A final engagement cautiously commenced upon the carnage
of this conflict's first casualties, terrific testament of mortality,
gross scenes torn pale and asunder by torchlights,
unremitting images of the half dead bleeding,
their moans bare and last moments barren
like old channels of lost rivers,
raging exhaustion spurned and supplanted with a spontaneous summons
of a brazen belief that my foe is more weakened, warbled and wasted than we,
here in the middle, setting the endgame circuitously,
a defense is devised to deter like a pinching pillory,
my startegy is instinct, my ferocity diverse -
J.A.B. - Final Part -
The Queen's henchmen penetrate professionally the porous perimeter,
as a Phyrric victory I pacified your Lady's legion,
for both in the open,like charriots missing riders,decentralized command,the measure,
I, like you maneuver behind the superior shelter of Praetorian's protection,
Levy the lurid seige upon my country's citadel as incensed infidels do,
your cantankerous catapaults wasting pawns like pebbles punched by a storming sea,
an officer sacraficed sardonically, intrepidly,
so to decimate the dormant foots encumbering you,
audacious as an angered asp the timely tactic was,will it hasten your demise to me?
Mandatory machinations amongst this moonlight morass,palpable being Death's caress,
a zephyer like a frosty scythe grazes gingerly our anxious eyes,
tethering the still strategy of mens' mentation,
advancing positions predicted but unproven, an apocolyptic inevitability provoked,
fostering inclement suspense,
justice is now beyond principle,virtue survives only on victor's blade,
incantations made in fire for fear's sublimation,
The common denominator of this prommenade of predation is relentless domination,
manipulating the opposition,perception taunted and haunted
as the fox dictates the chimerical chase,
a vermillion heartbeat,virulent,lucious,with a thin hum of vincibility
lures you to na spot of fragile dominion,
divided forces tend to scream like burning forest
when ambushed along trails of a tedious pace,
When the harp chords chortle tears of tucker from a skulless head,recall with dire dignity
that you were vanquished in strong purpose,
the memory of your egregious exploits will depend on the degree of quater
afforded by my soveriegnty
given to this proud harem of prospective sybils
rescued by a king's necessary nemesis,
J.A.B. - Part Three -
If you fight with fervent heart,
roar of lion from your part,
perhaps true kindness will impart the vengence of a Goddess staved,
the moon now red with the noon's dead,
in your heart I'm sure is dread,for this rite you were not bred,
many times an oracle told: men from feet made of lead
are mercenaries poorly fed; in countless meadows they have bled,
will they toil loyal,paid by your moldy bread?
So go, my foe of woe,wear the royal robe to toe,
and drink the wine bitter slow,
I am Lord of the sword,a righteous king of the horde,
of many Gods I've implored
to smite this monger to the floor,
not for thirst of the gore
but to have a legend's lore,
to protect a People free with me,before you perish it will be!
The priests posture purely now at the front ranks with faces skyward
petitioning to consecrate,
as the cavalry concentrates hard on their horse's fate
feeling the trumpet's terrible,seething sound,
a wilting wind softly weathers the seasoned infantry's instinct
from gaze to green ground,
while they infer the jarring armor jangle of heavy horsemen,
sufficient to strangle reluctance to prostrate,
a low thunder thumps my ears,my spirit leers across,
limbs like gears I raise my battle axe ahigh,
Tepid tepid rain,from whence you came
not the curving cloud but from the adversary's frame,
the color of the warm rain is the magenta stain
of enemy's brain on my horse's mane,
the Bishop busies as assassin,an orthodox art that has always been,
your Knight is nigh,about to die,
J.A.B. Part Two -
Trumpet the ethos of these wading warriors with the hollowed bones
of their panygeric prophets,resonating triumphant tones,
to forever honor,protect,& perpetuate the valor,virtue,& victory of this Holy Order,
the irridescent echo seeps from their Father's tombs,
for what extent shall I blaze myself and minions in the arrows path,
so to coddle an intangible hope made of a prayer's dope,
or in a mind where a prevailing vision roams,
nay, to avert that macbre nightmare of having my People's progeny becoming the pigmy
of a teething tyrant who condones the perversion of civilization's tomes,
a coalesced consciousness consummated by the last bastion
with a vigorous vigil on this Christmas Eve,
solemn and sacramental the emotion is which this of our hearts
the Almighty exhumes,
A dispatched soldier ploying as scout,remote, waiting ignorantly to be smote,
a far but not forgotten armored satellite being selfless,
his vanity enemy's threat consumes,
an unbridled but composed offensive of a triplicate terror delivered
by an indefatigable knight ,
an ultimatum presented simply but also strictly,
one at least his assault maroons,
J.A.B. - Part Four -
I built these walls, this battlement, I built it brick by brick
It seemed a moment at the time, but t'was a lifetime to do the trick
I built these walls with care and thought, I built them sure to last
I built them from the sands of time and all the tears that'd passed
I stand behind my castle walls and watch as life goes by
I do not wait for love's return, for love was but a lie
I wait to find a warmth within, a light that burns inside
Without that light I shall remain a heart without a guide