In a moment, ears are ringing.
The initial swell of twitchy
Combatants, charging out, crashed
Onto a coastline of gore.
As droplets of viscera splatter and
Fragments of bone shatter across armor
All is silent, bending swords other-wards
And charges of black powder towards
The boon of old gods. The old guard,
Hungry, so hungry for a grotesque
Deafening by pistol shots and
Scabbards of artillery.
A conflict of nephilim, with
Waves of almighty surging to,
First into the silence, mute the
Opposing force’s noisy war machine.