I've Moved!

Hello wayward traveler - I thank you for visiting my blog.

I have recently moved to Wordpress, so I'll be slowly phasing my 'Blogger' blog out. If you've enjoyed my work and would like to keep seeing it, please go to simonaustinpoetry.wordpress.com and you can continue following me and my poetry.

I look forward to seeing you there :)

Simon.

I've Moved!

Hello wayward traveler - I thank you for visiting my blog.

I have recently moved to Wordpress, so I'll be slowly phasing my 'Blogger' blog out. If you've enjoyed my work and would like to keep seeing it, please go to simonaustinpoetry.wordpress.com and you can continue following me and my poetry.

I look forward to seeing you there :)

Simon.

Wednesday 5 February 2014

The Conqueror

He crossed the seven oceans, brought the seven tides
But did not bring the mercy in His rippled wake,
The loss was His to gain, was His to cast aside
And yet, to pillage, plunder, was all His to take.
The comets and the stars above could not lament,
Or cease the rapid odyssey of his ascent.

His armies were immeasurable, immense in size
And none amongst the ranks did dare question His cause,
For they had once been men of freedom, men of pride,
For they had once been men that fought in grander halls.
But challenging His tyranny that knew no bounds.
Was but to dig their own grave in the waiting grounds.

The earth itself rose up and split itself apart
As He traversed the ruptured scars of its remains.
He strode across the bleeding magma’s of her heart,
Across the glass-like ashes of her blackened plains.
His glare was limitless, surveying without pause,
Ensuring all succumb to monocratic laws.

The fires parted ways like oceans drawn by moons
And though they licked at He, His flesh was left untried,
He strode across the roaring chasms without wounds
And laughed upon the faces of the gods defied
The very cosmos could not halt His forward march
And burnt as though but fabric in His aftermath.

But still between He and that which He seeks to hold
His stature riding high as death himself looked on,
He, utterly aware of those that were so bold
To challenge such a thunderstorm, a maelstrom.
His wrath alone diminished quick their measly gains
And cast their tortured carcasses upon the flames.

The sky above turns black from ceaseless firefight,
As blood begins to pour out of the cracks of earth,
An endless age of men fall down in wasted plight,
Then buckle into piles of ashes, mounds of dirt.
But He rides hard and fast upon His blackened horse,
Crushing foe and follower without remorse.

Millennia draw on but his defenses stand, 
As millions are notched beneath His brutal laws,
The waves of those that could not serve before His hand;
Devoured before uttering's of His great jaws.
A thousand years of immolation whispered in
And countless souls annihilated at His whim.

Until no more was left, and nothingness endured,
His domination absolute and ever long
The mountains, crumbled wastelands to his fate immured,
The oceans, barren canyons of oblivion.
And as the ceaseless winds rage on across His lands
They pour the scattered wastes through His triumphant hands. 

Copyright © 2014 by Simon Austin

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