A/N

When one weeps tears of blood after seeing the ruins of Praag, one can tell that it's hardly a small matter for those involved in the Great War Against Chaos, Magnus the Pious being no exception. Such was the issue that provided inspiration for this poem. A bit of liability is taken when it comes to the intricacies of Praag's fall, but...well, that's poetic license.

Against the Darkness

Oh what darkness lies in men's hearts,

That compels them to do this?

Driven by the lords of death and change,

And the lords of blood and bliss.

...

I have walked the Empire's roads,

Have defied the will of fate.

Yet here I am, standing still,

By what was once Praag's gate.

...

The acts of Chaos are dark indeed,

Casting shadows o'er the sun.

The horror inflicted on noble Kislev,

Can never be undone.

...

The Blood God was the first to strike,

Praag's streets running red.

His warriors slaughtered with abandon,

Butchering both the living and dead.

...

The Lord of Plague was next in line,

Feeding upon the death.

By the time his will was done,

Neither man nor woman drew breath.

...

The Prince of Pleasure experienced joy,

For what had taken place.

The happiness of fallow deeds,

Was evident on every face.

...

The Lord of Change then cast his will,

Directing Chaos from his throne

Magic went rampant through the streets,

Wood now indistinguishable from stone.

...

Yet hope remains along with fear,

Under the burning sky.

For those who seek our death and ruin,

Shall hear humanity's cry.