slanes venomous blood,
crimson fluid carried by the wind.
Slaughtered warriors through processes restrained.
Slaine, the tortured scream.
blood shall be the battle nourishing the blade in the bodies of his enemies.
Mangled flesh, rotting and impotent.
Violence is all on impulse,relishing the prospect of an easy kill.
Uncongenial the carnage, ordaining slaughter and destruction.
Slaine has them all groveling for mercy.
eyes without life stare blankly into the distance.
Screams of the living.
Thunder from chariots.
Slaines legend grows.
Nothing left to overthrow,
the battle has been won.
Brooding on the failed action of the one appointed the horned god, rest the blade on the bodies piled high in an act of glory.
Putrescent revenge is a cherished gift he bestows.
Let the fight of smoke and mirrors clear the cool night sky.
he waits to meet you there, he will lead you there.
Battle weary soldiers raise the blade.
Glory bound marching to salvation.
Dead to the realms executed in a fury.
Contusions too much too bare.
Distant voices growing louder , getting stronger.
Fallen empires trampled over and disposed of,
Distant voices growing louder getting stronger.
The horned God, Slaine.