Bravehearts - 4

Here in the morning,

and gone by the eventide.

Fortress is silent.

Sonorous rhythmic praying

echoes beyond the walls too.

All gone, five remain.

The panj pyare, the nucleus

order Thee to leave.

Faithful, loyal, they ordain,

And Thee bows before their law.

Midst the cadavers,

in the midnight hour, Thee stands,

on a risen mound.

Thee does not flee in wee hours.

Thee stands there, and claps aloud.

Grimly silent night.

Thy shrill ringing clap echoes.

A dare to all foes.

Thee crosses the stained terra.

All his beloved shroudless.

Blissful, radiant,

Thee slumbers on stonebeds,

mortal form wounded.

Men gone, palaces, riches too.

Thy Hallowed Name comes along.

In the distant lands,

the consorts wait longingly.

And somewhere out there,

Gran and lion-cubs struggle,

through hunger, cold and deceit.