Contelysia

And the victors march down the halls, with candles burning through their palls. while the caged men writhe and fray, flame dancing in the night of prey. "what did the battle bring but peace? all love long lost, now back on a lease", ah, the cruely wagered on fleeting kindness, "rest easy, soldier, that herded blindness left you alone, bereft and bereaved, yet hope's own daggers left you cleaved." now split remain the ones who remain, silently mourning and silently marching. the hearse of the alive carries no pain while the flame of the dead lies scorching.