In legions of dark a march moves on,
Stomping heels invading over feeble silences

By the castles of Nero bonfires are lit,
That shall soon be carried to burn our huts.

Dwellings that were, now scattered ash and smoke
In orchards of yore, our crypts are held behind cloaks

~S~

6th May, 2013 ; 9.11 PM

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