Hells Gates
Day 1
The enemy declares war,
You can hear their fighting roar.
The defenders set of to protect their country,
The destination their foretold cemetery.
Many admire and the ranks they join,
The mercenaries don’t ask for a single coin.
You can see no fear in their eyes,
Although their hearts pound war cries.
The ancient wall of stone and crates,
Enemies gather at hells gates.
With bronze armor and shields,
Every warrior, a spear he wields.
A massive undertake awaits,
They prepare to hold the hells gates.
A handful of men, just a few,
Against men from India to Khartoum.
One king proud noble a true fighter,
The other a coward, a slave keeper.
The coward on a hill he sits,
Both eyes on the battlefield he keeps.
On both sides formations are formed,
Whips lash and the enemy marched.
The earth begins to shake,
However, the lines must stand they cannot brake.
The enemy soldiers raise their weapons, now they stride,
In just a few moments, the armies will collide.
The guardians raise their shields up high,
And their wives far away begin to cry.
The cold north wind finally blows,
In every man, a horrible fear grows.
The enemy is just a few feat away.
The bitter waves smack the shores of the bay.
Everything is quiet, calm, silent…
Then Ares on the field sends his trident.
Screaming, shouting the killing you can hear,
It has begun that witch was near.
Those once magnificent and great,
On this theatre of war they’ll have met their fate.
Every man must push forward,
A heavy penalty awaits a coward.
Numerous losses the enemy already endures,
The rest of the Medians must carry on, it is war there are no rules!
The massacre, butchery, slaughter, blooded,
Has turned the fading sun red.
Countless men lie silent, cold… dead!
Under the brave force of the three hundred.
Their faith is under a key and lock.
The horses crush on the spears, like waves on a rock.
The first day draws to a close,
It is time to remember the lives of those,
Who lay on the red soil dead,
And take care of the lucky injured.
The hills hide the bloody red sun,
The king lies emotionless he is the only one.
All the others laugh and sing,
Some kneel silent to Zeus praying…
Fires and lamps are lit,
Everyone eats and vine they drink.
The blacksmith has much work before dawn’s brink,
After the killing the blades are blunt,
The days brought them a splendor hunt.
The hounds bark to the yellow moon,
Many will go to their tents soon...
