Splendid they were,
As they rose to the air,
Flying to battle on gossamer wings.
They were twelve score and nine,
The last of their kind,
The few that remained of a once mighty people.
`Twas a long, bitter war,
They could fight it no more,
Win this one final battle, for ages to come.
For this one fearsome beast,
Held in his clenched fist,
The power that held all the Darkness together.
And so onwards they flew,
Though death waited, they knew,
For the sake of their Allies, the sake of the world.
They engaged it at dawn,
And the battle raged on,
For a day and a night without pause or relief.
And when shone sun`s first ray,
On that terrible day,
None was left living, but the Demon was slain.
The battle was won,
And though war raged on,
Their Allies would win, for the Darkness was broken
And the Gods bade goodbye,
From a dark weeping sky,
Where the sun shone no longer on gossamer wings. |