The Season of War

The Season of War    
( Part 1)    
From my mound freshly laid    
I sat and gazed upon the melancholy view    
Of stone and manicured lawn      
Dappled with plastic flowers and faded ribbons fluttering in the breeze.    
I pondered the trip, delayed as yet    
A second plan not known to me    
Till winged angel perched above    
Dark with soot upon its downy descended.    
Clawed soiled feet, scrape against the marble marker,    
Ebony talons tighten then grip, cracking the veined gravestone.    
I have come for thee,    
My name dangling upon its scorched lips      
A brutal judgmental stare emanating from his avian eyes with    
A coldness more intense than death itself    
I lowered my eyes as tears bathed my trembling phantom feet    
It scoffed and read the scroll tucked under its wing.    
A servitude for your many transgressions against thy lord’s laws,    
Weak faith and callous demeanor,    
A loyal servant you are not    
Eight centuries upon the Wailing Wall    
 To protect the world of the living may do you well,    
The sentries must be replenished.    
Earn thy place and another will come    
To bestow a quest for higher ranking.    
Do not hesitate, pick up thy arms    
Win that which now is out of your reach.    
To hells door it murmured dryly      
As an ebony feline hissed at the ghastly scene.    
I shuddered as I took the sword and shield    
The sheath and belt of sparkling hide.    
A helmet strong yet light as a feather    
Dangled in my trembling hand.    
The world turned monochromatic and infinitesimal      
My mind raced with thoughts of horrors waiting    
I stuttered again and the words came fumbling out    
Cracked and weak they had no claim.    
What of the stolen innocence suffered too long?    
Does that not weigh against the lot?    
I have no pardons signed for thee    
Your sins are weighed and your fate is set.    
Don’t question the messenger.    
Upon the wind it leapt and hung    
Pointing down it spoke with renewed vigor.    
Guard thy weapons and harden thy resolution    
Serve without question, lest ye be condemned.    
All Hollows Eve is upon us,    
The gates will be stormed.    
Away he flew and I pondered again    
The sentence leveled upon me.    
The tears raced again towards my feet    
I sheathed the sword and dropped the helmet.    
A pleading cry emanated from within,    
Animalistic it shook me to my very being.    
The moment vanished in a flash of light.    
On your feet, another gargoyle materialized out of the air,    
A familiar voice spoke to me.    
No recognition came to mind,    
Relevance was of low importance.    
Come he said,      
The others are waiting


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