The Temple Falls Poem by Aaron Lynn

Holiest elder of Rehdrimer!
We invoke the wrath of the dead!
Our legions shall rise from the pits of the earth.
To mangle the emperor's head.
Invading our grounds with violent intent.
But we strike back with double the force.
Forbidding our worship? We forbid their breath!
Behind the black walls of the North!
Though their numbers increase, and their will gaining strength.
And they're pinning us to our own walls.
I see a soldier slip past me, straight into the ghastly.
And ominous Rehdrimer's Hall!
These ebony towers are only sustained.
By what lies in that hall of the grim.
Beyond that rising red mist, a lost being exists!
A statue, a figure of Him!
The soldier unmoved by the stare, that of doom!
From the effigy centering the hall.
Unsheathing his sword, blessings all to his Lord.
His mistake shall be fatal to all.
Rehdrimer's head with a thud, hit the floor.
But that isn't all that fell!
The floor, old and grey, turns to sand, falls away.
Into a starless cosmos of Hell.
The emperor's men, down that chasm, descend.
Along with my fellow cultists indeed!
Growing horrors! I cringe! Now aware of my end!
Barely hanging from blackness that feeds!
The walls and the towers now crumble.
A seldom chance for time to reclaim.
As the primitive temple falls.
Into it's lightless, cosmic grave...