By: Ellodin Posted on: September 30, 2015
In history's annals, there are many tales
of loss and triumph in adversity;
And Strife, the wind that fuels the flame of change,
oft meets its close within the cleansing rain.
In Kasmarkin, an emperor quite mad
performed a ritual in search of strength;
Rakmarkha's legacies: a sunken home,
a demon summoned with a rain of blood.
"In Seleucar, it rains only at night,"
the story of Lucaine's defence of love;
But Deis found that hero lost in thought:
so melted winter's dream, once carved of ice.
A duel in the mighty Bastion's walls
precipitated battles for the throne;
"Vitem et sanguinem," that timeless oath,
and Ashtan roared with fierce, torrential cheers.
At Empire's close, when there were no more words
and House deSangre met its burning end,
great Sarapis, the Logos watched and wept
a shower of tears to fill the sundered sea.
Through time, our lives and paths take many turns
and some find ways to drive us to wit's end;
But whether washed away with cheers or blood,
the rain will come and all trials will conclude.