The fire glowed,
ambers hidding beneath the ash,
bodies every where,
stars and moon hidden from view,
in the distance a wolf howls.
Waggons burned,
smoke fills the air,
horse neigh skittishly,
eight warriors stand their ground.

One lone survivor,
trys to crawl,
to hide.
Eight warriors watch in delight,
what pain will they inflict,
first they gather the scalps,
blood dripping running into the land,
their land.

Tied to a tree a man,
bleeding from many cuts,
no longer cries in pain,
Eight warriors clean their knives,
wiping his blood away with sand.

They laugh,
talking in their native tongue,
he only sees demons,
covered in his blood,
This must be hell his mind screams.

Eight warriors,
ride off in the dark.
The smell of blood,
brings life out of the night.
A man longing for death,
receives his wish.



I received inspiration for this after reading two works by
Judgement, I hope this will find it's way to him.