Him

[Jack Maundrell]

These narrow winding and narrow minded
passages that heed danger within old
cracked rocks, towering overhead.
Black stars that bend the snake layered sky hiding
foreign enemies crouched, watching in preparation.
Masked only by the blood of dead children
chanting and wanting more. A mass of thousands
following their unwavering leader. Determined
to destroy, fueled by hate and challenged by none.

Except for "Him" for he has no fear. Standing alone
motionless, unwilling to submit. bowing to no man
powerful or less. Creating flashes of blue crystallized light that slices
the horizon past repair. Confusing his enemies while he
decapitates their golden leader. His blade unharmed trickling.
Stunned in awe they attack this "Him". One sweep of his hand is
all they last see until death. Those left standing flee without limbs,
he owns them.