Now has come the age of cold steel;
When the spirits of elsewhere –
Who inhabit the dim land of the wolf,
Are ensceptered for a season.
Magniloquent; contuacious; adept in casuistry’
Questing those hidden in the Bossom of Time.

These hear an untroubled call:
“Let him see who sees;
Let him hear who hears;
Enter the Rock and hide in the dust,
There is salvation in no other,
Nor safety for the soul.”

Onward comes the palmer with his springald,
With the voice of thunder; arrousing fury
As if impaled on pain’s own blade;
Actuating bloodlust against all that is holy.
The leaguer is ablaze ……. a sound of trumpets;
The awaited hour approaches.

The shields of his mighty men are colored gule,
Mounted warriors are dressed in sable.
The night is enveloped in flashing steel
As they prepare to march;
“Harness the horses and get up ye horsemen,
Don the brigandines and brandish thy cypress spears!”

Chariots shall rage through the streets,
And savage the broad ways,
Scattering to and fro as lightening flashes;
Desolation, desecration, destruction through flaming torches.
Cacophonies of miseries
Through shrouds of murray hue.

While there is yet time: Flee.
He who calls is is well able to protect …….
Well able to provide ……. Know ye not,
It is the time of gathering.
Enter the Rock and hide in the dust;
For alas, consumation is at hand.