Vanity

Dawn whispered from the black terrains,

breaking the crimson rays on the northern land.

Whilst,

sirocco of fateful innocents detoured their barn,

They marched towards the turbulent sea,

with barb machete in their hands.

With the glint of swords,and their shimmering shells,.

They march in sync with cavalry, in a chuff of air behind.

Even the revered Sun is timid, seeing their bolshie red eyes,

But with every whistles of trumpets,

they are moving towards the oblivious skies

There in the hazy shade of birch,

she witnessed the infantry along with her lamb.

She then heard every carillon cautiously,

and followed them to the distant land.

Crossing the runnel and the arid sand,

she abridge the road of northern land.

Whilst,

they aspired for satiating their might,

her eyes starved for the glimpse of her man.

Then,

the dooms hour descended in time.

The metals started to collide,

as cavalry embarked at gates of Northern land,

and she was seized by her beleagured fate.

The grunts of the midgets shriveled her mind,

and she found herself veiled in the fray of grimes.

Whilst the mortals withered like the wilted yield,

she and her lamb were now stranded far from primal land.

Gallantly they chastened the might of land,

and the fierce rage and gore was subdued by twilight.

By the night, when the tranquility commenced to reign,

and the darkness echoed the silence in the air,

She wandered the realm to unveil hopes of her partisan mind.

And finding her ring amidst tomb of morbidity,

she left for the distant lands, along with her silent lamb.