Morning Star

The Morning Star hung high and bright.

And came down in gauntlet hand,

hard on men without remorse,

the Morning Star would end.

Their dying breath would whimper out.

The Morning Star fought on.

The Morning Star would end the night and bring the Morning Dawn.

The Morning Star inspired awe, it also caved in bone.

The Morning Star was beautiful when polished and it showed.

The Morning Star could kill and maim, cold iron sharp and strong.

Its weight was heavy at its end, a Knight could bring to bare.

All the might of the Morning Star was enough to snuff out fast,

the brightest light within a man, that day would be their last.

So was the call of the Morning Star, a captivating sight.

That Men had known eternally from the beginning of all time.

The oncoming of daybreak with sharp guarantee,

Linked chain and leather band, swinging fast and free.

Red and bright faded life, the Morning would wear out.

Late evening at last saw the end of the Morning Stars role.

The battle won; the dying done.

The dead would pay their toll.

Across the path that all must take but none could travel back.

Up high they'd see the Morning Star out across the black.