Immortals Last Breath

Clouds form a veil over the sun,
Casting faint shadows onto the valley.
The earth lie still, flooded in shadow.
The soil seemed to keep itself away from the sky,
As if it were a disease lingering overhead.

Like a blade taking ones life, the clouds split.
From behind the clouds came an angelic scream.
The sound pounded out over the valley,
As it tore through the serenity of the land,
Animals fled, trees fell victim to their weight,
Plants wilted at the rumbling of the scream.
Soon there was silence, not even the river dare speak.

The earth itself resistant to the scream,
Splits in two revealing its abyss.
The jaws of the earth begin feasting on the valley's expanse.
Around the fracture the soil decays,
Surrendering its color, its moisture, its life.
In the abyss, there is nothing.
Nothing but the burning eyes of those whom occupy.

From the rays of light descend the brigade.
The cavalry follows them down into the valley.
Their armor glistening in the distance enough to make you squint.
Diamond encrusted, Gold inlaid plate mail of impeccable quality.
A squadron that has never seen a day of defeat.
They sit weapons in hand, awaiting the worse.

From the abyss echoes of pain and suffering flourish out.
The flaming eyes move closer climbing out of the pit.
Dwellers of the underworld horde out in chaotic waves.
Dragoons gallop out flowing like the blood of the horde.
Like vultures awaiting their prey, they glare out into the light.
Armor comparable to rags, fashioned with their enemies bones.
Living everyday in defeat, they have nothing to lose.

The clouds stir together creating a vortex.
Lightning erupts from the center, Striking at the horde.
The brigade makes its way down the valley.
Each soldier touched with divine light raises their weapon.
Glory overwhelmed by Faith, they await the battle.

The earth shakes in a frenzy,
Unmerciful gaps form into the earth, breathing a rage of fire.
Flames incinerate their victims as each soldier falls to its grasp.
From each crack the horde enlarges.
Drowned in disappointment, the horde leaps towards their adversary.

The collision of the two forces made a terrifying sound,
Agony's roar was enough to scare the sun away.
The horde slowly crumbled to dust against their rival.
Trampled, slashed, scratched, and bit the brigade collapses.
Gazing into the eyes of their own murderer.
Immortals take their last breath.
Only Tragedy triumphs.