By: Jordan Zuniga

Stirring, stirring, the pounding of the drum,
Marching, marching, to collect the final sum,
Where patience was once a virtue that surely stayed,
A king’s messenger declared that death would no longer be delayed,
The mustering of arms, the soldiers hosts in seeming endless length,
Where armies marched upon the field, a force of unyielding strength,
Treachery was the match, betrayal was the powdered keg,
The fire was the royal’s wrath while his enemies blood came dripping down their leg,
Such appeasement was not possible, the widows stayed their cries,
Fools paid their price for the folly of their lies,
The beggars called, the widows wailed, the children began to weep,
As the host of armies came and began their besieging of the enemies keep.

May Lord Jesus Christ have all the glory!