That Greatacious Periodic, Era Of Time.... Poem by Michael Gale

The Sun went down on that greatacious periodic era of time....
Without, reason or rhyme.

The dark ages, reigned on, with all...
Those warriors of that day-were short, not tall.

Swords were drawn stealthily astrewn...
Wickedly swung and vastly hewn.

Blood was spilt as all about....
When death t'was dealt, a warrior would survey and to steed, remount.

On and on were the number of the dead to rise...
Civilizations now extinct......To all, no surprise.