Battle of Moscow Part I
It caters to an arrogance of hate
when war becomes a method of despite.
Through vile contempt, he seeks to cultivate
a dogma that defines inhuman blight.
The devil’s plan has given due consent
to let annihilation be the goal.
Let hands be clean, let hearts bear no lament
as slaughter tends to those without a soul.
Such dogma fades when blood begins to flow
and bigotry assails it deadly blade,
for mortal are the men that cede the blow
and conscience may defeat the hand he’s played.
So, ready zealot sabers if you dare,
to pierce the heart that slays the mighty bear.
To pierce the heart that slays the mighty bear
may doom the earth to despotism’s ire.
The purist spawn is all that he will spare
and lessor children cast into the fire.
His insolence exceeds the rationale
that such disdain could fill a human heart,
but followers vehemently avow
their loyalty, and pledge to play a part.
And now the East is all that bars the door
as legions roll to crush the crimson pride.
The devil plans to split his iron corps
to circumvent and trap the bear inside.
But Crimson pride holds fast the final gate
as Death pursues, intent to decimate.
As Death pursues, intent to decimate,
the remnants from the Western front reply.
They fortify in mass, then lie in wait,
as chilling wintry winds intensify.
His legions charged to crush the bulwark stance
as Ursa stumbled ‘neath the despot’s spear.
The fearless front absorbed the piercing glance
and though impaled, stood fast against the fear.
Though still his trident sought a swift defeat
as Red brigades fell victim to its wrath,
but winter’s rush crept slowly ‘neath his feet.
to stall the charge by hindering its path.
And though his lance had pierced the mighty bear
its savage teeth and claws, he failed to snare.
Its savage teeth and claws he failed to snare
as winter’s grip denied aggression’s ire.
An icy mist, distilled from Slavic air,
transformed the earth into a soggy mire.
His iron brigades were swallowed by a maze
of fetid muck, dismantling intent.
Incessant sleet of festering malaise
infused the plagued terrain without relent.
Though Rasputitsa stalled his grand design,
remorseless fire instilled the Crimson sky.
His obstinance swore never to resign.
His arrogance vowed victory or die.
As winter’s blanket swathed the Bear within,
the devil sought to slay it in its den.
The devil sought to slay it in its den
as legions slowly trudged through snow and ice,
but muck denied the devil’s acumen
of swiftly trapping prey within a vise.
The cornered brute would greet him at the door
and thus, the crimson prize it would deny.
This mighty bear responded with a roar
then reared to front the devil eye to eye.
Though dogged was the trident paradigm,
the dauntless barb had failed to pierce the heart.
The devil’s fire will dissipate with time
as all the ills of winter’s wrath impart.
The devil’s hunt was stalled by winter’s vail
as swift assaults endeavored to prevail.
"This War of Sons"
Chapter 5- The Battle of Moscow - Part I
Copyright ©
Mark Massey
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