Holy War Poem by Chris Noir

It has been proclaimed, a drawing on the stone, a wall ov a cave!
It has been foretold, by the ancient scrolls,
Markings on the graves!

The sand and the wind,
The quill and the ink,
This world was a blank page for too long!

Thine blood, and thine fire,
The sacrificial pyre,
The desert of your birth, rewrite the songs ov war!

It has been before, a carving on a blade,
A promise ov a king!
it has been ignored, since time that we know, that we kill everything!

The cloud and the rain,
Left and right of damaged brain!
The disease will spread ov rats and flies!

Thine love and thine hate
Thine will to vigorate!
The waters ov your doom, befall Meka tonight!