More must die
This battle not enough
My lord in wrath unquenched
More must die.
Though on these acres souls
Like stubbled fields of straw have fallen
Those callow tender sprouts misguided blow
Like flakes of ash upon the wind
More must die.
Though my footprints inked in blood
Ankles lapped in crimson tide of sacrifice
Breeches soaked in spleen and fluids as I wade
More must die.
A legion will not quench
Like starved hounds bays ire unsheathed
Though lit pyres sicken the morning sky
More must die.
Till artisans replace the forest with bones
And build cathedrals of skulls to placate my Lord
More must die.
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