Gather to me my knights,
unfold the scales of your mail,
as the wraiths of time wail by the second hand that trails.
In the dusk of the night,
I dar3 tread the path of that beacon at midnight.
Then we shall see at dawn,
where all things do yawn,
in the first hour of the twillight morn
I will see your spear,
with my that rear of the axe i weild.
© oliver a. melendez.
© all artworks and poetry by ohms / @rstydhude