The Circle

Mithraea, over the horizon east
Banishing dark, tool of priest;
Far below, the earth alights:
Two armies, standing, gath’ring might.

No creature below show signs of life,
For never-ending, is human strife.
The plains below are dry and dead,
Caked with blood, violence, red.

Mithraea shining overhead
Ashtan armies all but dead.
Shallam now exclaims, “We’ve won!”
Thinking they that all is done.

Mithraea over the horizon west
Sett’ling in her nightly nest
Evil reaches Shallam’s gate,
It is sealed: Shallam’s fate.

Twilight owns the nightly realm;
Once a city: now is hell.
Ashtan now exclaims, “We’ve won!”
Thinking they that all is done.

Mithraea over the horizon east
Banishing dark, tool of priest;
All around, like a girdle
Never-ending, is the circle.


Penned by my hand on the 15th of Glacian, in the year 383 AF.