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You are here: Home --> The Archives --> Poetry


The Last Stand

There comes a time when a person,
Must fight for a higher reason,
But evil cares not the motives of man.
We draw our swords, prepare our spells,
Pray to the gods, that it will go well,
When we come here to make our last stand.
 

 

Galamir with his armour bright,
Stands ready to enjoy this fight,
He’s drawn with sword a line thru sand.
No evil shall pass beyond this part,
Sworn upon his honour, upon his heart,
As we come here to make our last stand.
 

 

Karak, axes drawn, prayers ascend,
A dwarven cleric to the end,
Mountains be his home, not this land.
Moradin take his soul tonight,
But not before he’s done what’s right,
And we come here to make our last stand.
 

 

Edward the mage wants to raise some hell,
To blazes with the protective spells!
He wants to burn your army to the last man.
Staff held high, robes pulled tight,
He’ll die a vision of power and might,
So we come here to make our last stand.
 

 

I’m neither a warrior nor a mage,
My dagger’s quick and I won’t be caged,
To stop me, best cut off more than my hands.
If I must slay a hundred to do my part,
I’d save my last blade for your heart,
For we come here to make our last stand.
 

 

We’ve been together through thick and thin,
Across Abyss and Hell and back again,
We will stop your army with our small band.
May be outnumbered by quite a bit,
We may prove that ain’t the half of it,
And this may not be our last stand


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Thanks to Roger (Alacrity) Briant for this contribution!

 


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