The Age of Empires;
came, saw, conquered and perished. Maybe the Gods will just retire…
Across the sea’s, on white horse tides,
they seized their lands and raped their wives.
Sailed too close to cinder suns;
moored on a horizon long scorched by Huns.
Captured laughter from a baby’s throat.
Bottle fed it, until it choked.
Their first born slaughtered, slung loose at their feet…
surrender your lands, or bare a plague on your streets.
Blood splattered banners; they fluttered for victory…
flickering though time, diluting frail-pages of history.
Sunk teeth-too-deep, infecting open wounds of our patient nation,
whilst monsters of creation, evolved out of brutal exploitation.
Across the sea’s, this time we’ll fly,
in preservation of our culture, we’ll gladly die.
Even though it’s thousands of miles away,
we must keep Muhammed’s children at bay.
If they should live, yes, even one…
Yeshua will become Gods forgotten son.
I know you’re an atheist, but my child do your part…
Because, tradition must find homage in a patriots heart.
*This is a piece for a module at uni that I'm taking, whereby we have to write 3 poems; one in quatrains, one in tercets, and one in couplets for an assignment. This is the couplets poem!